And it was also true that the hive mind's tricks mostly affected sight and no other senses, but he couldn't allow the luxury with an enemy like that. To close his eyes was to cut himself off too much, even if what he saw wasn't real. The truth was somewhere before him. He only needed to find it again.
Not seeing didn't mean he was blind. Concentrating his gaze into one place helped. It focused the rest of the world into a fixed system with the point in the middle. In the morphing, ever-changing mess of visions, holding onto anything stable was vital.
And the Host didn't seem all too happy to attack him. It had lost the advantage it had back in the core where, for a brief moment, Ryden had been weaponless. That had been the hive mind's first mistake. It should have attacked at once, should have destroyed the spear if it could.#p#分页标题#e#
Even kicking it over the edge would have helped, but it was too fixed on him. Later, it had foolishly tried to catch the coils Aria was breaking, leaving Ryden the moment he needed to retrieve the weapon.
It knew. The Host knew it was going to die and all it wanted was to take him along.
Ryden felt no fear as he slowly turned, following a shadow that seemed most likely to be the Host. To die fighting the Clayor hive mind was a death worth remembering, one that wouldn't have shamed anyone. All the warriors who had died trying to delay the Host had died with honor, bravely taking the fight to an opponent that was far stronger than they were.
Instead of fear, all he felt was a tinge of regret. If he died there, he'd never bind to Aria, never feel her warm, soft body in his arms again.
The shadow he'd thought was the Host charged him at last. Ryden only had time to block the death blow of the knife. The general's battle awareness was working to discern even an ounce of the reality from the distorted visions he saw. Right then, catching the knife before it sliced him in half, hearing came to his aid. He'd heard the blade come whining through the air, and he definitely heard the frustrated cry of the Host, its sneak attack failed.
When it tried to move back to try again, Ryden pushed forward. Now that he momentarily knew where the enemy was, he had to keep the Host near him or risk losing it in the shadows again. By touch and sound and smell, he tracked the Clayor champion's retreat, trading furious blows to keep it from slipping away.
He found that the Host had more trouble creating illusions around the knife than around itself. The blade reflected light that was hard to predict, and more than once, Ryden knew it saved his life when he saw a flash in the shadows, only to dodge a second later when the knife came crashing down.
He pushed the Host back, relentlessly forcing it to retreat, never giving it quarter. It could take his sight, but not the knowledge of the room they were in. Ryden could count his steps, could calculate the distance of the walls from the point where he'd started. When the Host cried out in dismay when its back nearly hit the wall, Ryden already knew.
His next blow would have cut the Host's head clean off if the creature hadn't dodged with unnatural speed, bodily charging him in the next.
That did surprise Ryden. Physical strength was the one thing the Host most sorely lacked when compared to him. It was bound to lose a barehanded fight, but that wasn't its attention. It took the general only a few moments of messy, frantic tooth-and-nail fighting to understand what the hive mind was doing.
Driving him away from the walls and messing up his count. It was trying to disorient him, but Ryden couldn't have that. In a situation where he couldn't trust his eyes, there had to be some point of reference.
The Host's kick caught him in the ribs, sending him stumbling back, and the enemy was on top of him in the next moment. Ryden's first thought was to protect his heart, but the Host brought the knife down on his much weaker arm guard. With a cry, the general felt his hand contract in pain. The spear clattered to the floor.
Ryden heard the Host kick it away, to the land of visions and lies.
He had no time to mourn the weapon. Once more, he caught the knife inches from his throat. Brion warriors healed fast, but it stung to have the wounds he'd received to his hands before opened up again. Warm blood trickled down on his face as the Host pushed down with unnatural strength. It occurred to Ryden that perhaps the hive mind had never been as weak as it had showed them. Or maybe it was the visions dragging him down.
It didn't matter. Dying without killing the Host was not an option. Gathering all his strength, Ryden pushed the blade away, hearing it cut into the deck right beside his ear. Above them, he heard some noise. It made the Host look up too, and the general needed nothing more than that single glance to throw the enemy off him. Now they were both weaponless and he could make his superior strength count.
The sound coming from the Host's throat was close to a whine when Ryden wrapped his hands around its neck. The hive mind fought back with everything it had, flooding his mind with the worst images it could come up with.
The body beneath him was thrashing wildly, trying to throw off his hold. The Host's long nails were dragging bloody lines over his face in the desperate hope of making him ease up on his grip.
All through seeing Aria die again and again, his ship being destroyed or falling into the hands of the Clayors, Ryden fought back.
There was a flash to his left. The general threw himself off the Host a second before the knife slashed against his thigh, right where his heart would have been. The Host had somehow thrashed hard enough to edge closer to its discarded weapon.#p#分页标题#e#
Ryden heard the enemy get up, breathing heavily. His head hurt from the visions, each more vivid than the next, but he couldn't give in to them. The Host had to die, there was no other way. He resolved himself to do whatever it took to make that happen, and turned to face the unseen enemy, knowing he wouldn't be able to keep it up for long.
He thought he heard movement to his left, right when he heard Aria's desperate voice from above.
"On your right, three feet! He's right on top of you!"
The general moved without thinking. He dashed to his right, one, two steps and the spear was back in his hand. The grip was awkward. He had to adjust, and then he spun around, thrusting the blade of the spear right through the Host's heart.
The visions ceased. The bay returned to him, empty except for him and the dying hive mind. Looking up, he saw Aria standing on a walkway high under the ceiling, her face pale with fear. There were warriors with her. Presumably they'd been trying to keep her away and not to let her see.
The Host collapsed before his feet.
Ryden looked upon his fallen enemy without hate. It wasn't the Brion way to hate a worthy enemy, especially in victory. He looked at the light dying in the creature's eyes forever without another Clayor close by to carry on in its place. It said nothing. It had nothing to say to him.
He'd won. He'd won and lived and Aria was his.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Aria
“It’s over,” she gasped.
It was the most nerve-racking thing she'd ever witnessed.
Aria could have sworn her heart stopped at least three times watching the general fight the Host. Seeing him duel an enemy he couldn't see, knowing what it felt like from experience... Aria had never been so glad in her life when it was done. Not only because Ryden was alive, not just because they'd won, but because it was finally over.
"Over," Ryden repeated, looking at her with a smile. "It is not over."
They were in his rooms, with strict commands in place not to disturb them with anything short of a major crises. Captain Hastien was in charge of the ship during the general's absence, overseeing the resolution of the war and the repairs to the Conqueror. Aria didn't envy the man for either and felt more than guilty for the second.
Her hand was wrapped into a weird bandage after the healer had fixed the bone in place correctly. She had been assured it would be as good as new in no time, but even after such a long time in space, Aria had a hard time believing that. Medicine simply didn't work like that for her. Broken bones were something that took months to fix, not hours. The healer had grinned at her.
The miraculous healing qualities of the Brions were quite visible to her, though. The scars on Ryden's face were already almost gone, with only pale lines showing where the Host had scratched him. She wondered if Brions had any scars at all, but the general assured her that they did. Even healing didn't fix everything. Some things were too poisonous or too severe to ever fully mend. Shallow flesh wounds, however, would do so.
His response confused Aria, who was lying on the general's bed, distantly wondering if she should tell him about the night she spent there. She imagined the imagery would please her fated. So far, Ryden had taken utmost interest in her well-being, and despite the obvious lust shining in his eyes, hadn't moved to touch her more than to caress her skin, to kiss her, to hold her against his strong body.
Just thinking about it made Aria squirm, longing for more, but then the pain in her arm reminded her that waiting was necessary.
"How so?" she asked. "We won. You won."
Ryden was standing by the screen that had opened in the bedroom. If Aria had known before that there was such a thing on the wall, hidden behind a cover, she would have felt very self-conscious.
"Yes," Ryden allowed, turning his gaze toward the Enor. "Wasn't it you who kept telling me there was a difference between winning and winning right?"