Chilled exorcist.

Chapter 10: "Priest of Rukh Fortress"

A fanfare resembling the ancient composition "The Enchantments of the Thunderbird Lands" sounded. It was traditionally played before the army of Rukh Fortress marched out, so everyone's attention was focused on the dueling arena.

"Priest Abramius Tul of Fortress Rukh!" announced the herald. The crowd shouted furiously. "A priest?" I could not believe my own eyes. It looked like one of Titan Yodkem's servants had come out to see what was going on in the outside world.

"I have come to cleanse these lands of ossery! I am Abramius Tul, the Unrevealed Fist of Titan Yodkem, and I will crush any evil that comes my way!" shouted the priest to the cheering crowd. And the crowd applauded. Shaking his club and shield, Yodkeim's devotee roused the crowd.

Dressed in bright red and white robes, the priest immediately attracted everyone's attention. Therefore, the presence of the second contestant was not immediately noticed, even the herald, accustomed to his work, missed his appearance in the dueling arena. In gray and blue robes, lean and lean, he took a seat opposite. It was only then that he was announced, "Lkad of the Northern Tribes!" shouted the name of the second contestant to the herald.

"I, Lkad of the Northern Tribes, child of the warg and the wolf! Fear my fangs!" the archer shouted hoarsely and grinned, showing his teeth.

It was not necessary to shout, but it seemed that the northerner wanted to repeat the success of his rival, so he raised his bow and shook it in the air. But the crowd had little or no reaction to Lkad. There was liquid clapping. It was clear to everyone, except for the northerner himself. "I guess they set up the tournament grid so that the favorite always wins," I wondered. "Or maybe they just don't want any trouble from Fortress Rukh, the priest of Hotta after all." I took a closer look at the archer, a strange wolf, long-range. Weapons like bows were not common to the Wolf and Warg clan. This tribe of northerners was known for their skillful melee warriors. Each arrow attached by a fan behind the skinny back had a bone tip. "They must be warg fangs or something like that," I couldn't say with accuracy from this distance.

"Let the duel begin!" exclaimed the herald, and the combatants began their duel.

Lkad tried to get around Abramius Tulus and flank him the way a wolf guesses the direction for a throw. He cackled and wheezed in a hoarse voice, trying to mimic the growl of a predator. The priest, unlike the child of Varg and Wolf, bowed his head and closed his eyes, lowering his weapon. His rival even hesitated, looking at the herald, who announced the beginning of the battle, and turned around perplexed and asked, "Is he surrendering?" Lkad shouted in a hoarse voice in the almost complete silence possible in the arena.

In response, the herald shook his head and raised his palms to the sky, drawing the attention of the assembled crowd, and announced, "It seems that the priest has decided to use combat meditation to swiftly slay his opponent!" The crowd hooted happily, finally everyone understood everything. "The priest is just saving up his strength for a powerful dash."

A venomous grin ran across Lkad's face. He drew the bowstring, and it rattled melodically, like the first note of a battle rhythm. The hall gasped, and with good reason! The child of the Warg and the Wolf had hit the floor of the Hott priest's robe! Even the Hott priest seemed surprised. He opened his eyes in surprise and looked down at his clothes, lifting the pierced fabric of the cloak. Yes, the clothes were securely pinned to the ground by the arrow that had bound them. And I knew why it had happened. Lkad hadn't intended to kill his opponent, he hadn't even thought of injuring him, so the Titan's Unsheathed Fist defense hadn't worked. I hid a smile as I watched the priest's eyes widen, either from surprise or fear. It looked like he was now reviewing his duel with his opponent. His idea of reflecting the aimed arrow hadn't worked. Apparently, he wanted to summon the faith of those gathered to turn them to the Light of Yodkeim. But it didn't work. I hid my smile in my sleeve again.

After snatching the arrow, the priest unsheathed a massive mace and struck his shield twice. Apparently, this was just what Lkad had been waiting for. He began to aim his arrow. The first arrow flew and should have been reflected by the shield of light, but... the arena marveled again. The arrow slammed into the shield and slowly, one centimeter at a time, continued to move forward. I looked at the child of the Wolf and Varg. It looked like he was indeed of their clan, despite his strange weapon. Lkad, with the help of the rune rings and bracelet, was pushing his plumed fang forward, through the barrier, giving it extra power.

The priest finally recovered from his first impression and raged. He swung his mace carelessly away from the arrow, shattering the rune on its warg fang tip. The more I watched the fight, the more details I noticed.

"Stubborn heathen! You will be crushed!" shrieked Abramius Tull.

О! Now I do not envy Lkad. The full might of the Priest of Jodkheim is about to fall upon him!

The Undisclosed Titan Fist had completed its martial meditation, and its actions were now blurring in the cold morning air. In a few moments, the Priest of Hotta approached his opponent and with a ringing blow of his shield, sent the lean foe flying with a powerful lunge, followed by a swift leg kick to the side that pushed the northerner away. Lkad flew sideways and flipped twice, hitting the ground and letting go of his bow. The duelist raised his hammer and shield to the sky, and the audience cheered again! "If the priest had wanted to end the duel, he should have struck with his weapon and is still coloring," I rubbed my chin as I pondered.