Crimson

Chapter Eight

For many moments, allowing his recruits to stand and wait for his order, as the other Legionnaires used the time to work and become more proficient; this San carelessly stopped the progression of his troops. Looking up and down the line, measuring whom would be a difficult match for Pligal, San measured each of his Legionnaires in turn. Dorn, standing strong, taller than the lot, San eyed him up and down.

"Yessss. He may do." He thought to himself with his orbs as slits.

"Two and four!" He commanded the troops to marshal.

Dorn and Pligal stepped onto the battleground to their left while leaving the line, both pivoting on their right heel turning towards San. Rapidly, they moved to the center where San stood. Awaiting orders to begin the duel, standing rigidly as their bodies moved on their own, responsive to the continual commands over time.

Letting out a deep breath, with it, his heightened abilities left. Feeling normal again, his mind muddled, not continually analyzing the situation. Feeling blank, he blinked his orbs in confusion. With no extra energy filling his muscles, he remained rigid while he awaited orders from San as heavy fatigue crashed over him.

"Where did it go? Has the Terra God forsaken me?" Pligal thought to himself.

His body trembling slightly as an animal shaking off the cold of day, Pligal shifted in place. San stared at him quizzically as Pligal's thorax expanded shallowly. Blinking away a need to fall into the death state, fatigue ravishing him, his thoughts slowed as if they were weighted down by ten Erons traversing a heavy muck field.

Pligal's colors grew lighter, his luminescence weakly flickering. Barely visible in the light of day, San smiled exposing his razor-sharp teeth as he witnessed this. Delighting in witnessing weakness in the young Legionnaire, quickly he gave the order to begin the sparring match. By raising a single talon, the match started.

Lumbering into position, slowly turning to face Dorn, Pligal's body begged for release. Dorn already moved to face him, patiently awaited. Nearly a full head above Pligal, Dorn gazed down with his onyx orbs at his competitor.

"He isn't the same. His former power has diminished." Dorn thought to himself. "He looks on the cusp of the death state. His scales look pitiful."

Once Pligal moved into place, San mercilessly dropped his talon indicating to the Legionnaires to start attacking. Inside his thorax, Pligal's life pump pulsated violently. His orbs flickered, incredibly heavy. Grabbing his staff, simply pushing softly against Pligal's thorax, Dorn measured his strength against the weakened comrade as Pligal crumbled, the contents of his many stomachs spewing forth onto the training site.

Laughing viciously as the rest of the Legionnaires and their Sans watched in silence, San reveled in Pligal's feebleness. Clearly not the same warrior they just witnessed, many wondered where his prodigious skill and strength vanished to. Now a husk of his former quality they quickly turned their back on him continuing their training.

San watched their interest wane with pleasure. Waving his talon to signal Dorn as the victor, San walked towards Pligal's ragged body. Still convulsing with the stomach contents ejecting from his body. San stepped on his thorax, gloating in his victory as he kicked Pligal's weak from towards the edge of the ring. Rolling easily towards Findel's rigid pose. Glancing downward towards Pligal before returning his gaze upward, Findel quickly attempted to avoid San's wrath by remaining rigid.

"Pick him up filth and take him to the infirmary!" San shouted towards Findel.

Inwardly, groaning before complying, the sick mere spittle at this point, Findel complied. Clinging to his own staff fiercely, amidst the weakening, aside from the hard kick rolling him away, he clung. Findel pulled Pligal over his shoulders. Folding him in towards his abdomen, he quickly scurried off towards the center the training area, the area containing the medical center. Dorn watched disappointed, yet as respectful as ever towards Pligal. He bested San, someone who Dorn would have difficulty defeating, all with ease.