CHAPTER 33: A NUT JOB AND A KILLER DASH

She stepped into the damp corner boldly, her boots hiding a firm gap in the marbled floor.

"Oh, shit," Eric muttered, tearing his gaze away from his nemesis. She’d finally caught up with him, and it appeared she wasn’t concerned about the situation right now. She glared at Eric, her nostrils flared as she swung her wooden sword lightly in her hand.

Eric knew he couldn’t run this time around, so he expected the worst. A painful beating with the military belt, a dreadful thrashing with the wooden sword, or perhaps a curse word, but all Opal said was, "Step back, you pathetic bum. You’re lucky I hate this cocky mage more than I hate you."

Eric watched wide-mouthed as she stepped forward to stand directly in front of Styles’ ice spears while twisting the training sword playfully. "Did I hear somebody say swordsmen are worthless?" she glared deeply at Styles.

Styles laughed. "Oh, this day keeps getting weirder. Now I’m up against a runt? I see you must be the girlfriend he was running from."

Opal shot Eric a menacing look as if questioning him about what Styles just said. Eric shrugged and stretched out his palms, signaling that he knew nothing about it. That didn’t seem to convince Opal though. Her mean gaze lasted a few more seconds before focusing on Styles again.

"You must be so full of yourself just because your father is one of the three leaders of this academy," she spat. "You belittle swordsmen, yet your father is one of us. Barely can any magic hurt him in combat."

"Don’t you dare speak about my father like that. That bloody man never loved me anyway. He’s a swordsman, and the only concern I was to him," Styles switched his playful style into rage. The ice spears moved erratically as they grew bigger and sharper. Then with a swift wave of the his hand, all twenty icicles shot speedily at Opal, covering every angle and reducing her chances to escape.

Eric waited with bated breath, worried that he’d gotten someone else involved in his business and might end up hurting them.

Sure, he wished Opal would just die and finally get off his neck, but he felt bad that she might also die while fighting because of something he started. He didn’t get any better when he realized she might die in the hands of this oily, gel-headed Styles. Eric saw that Opal was still standing rooted to the same spot, so he panicked.

"Hey, watch out!"

But he couldn’t believe his eyes when Opal finally moved. Well, in truth, he didn’t see her move. He saw only a blue line streaking after her, leaving behind the impression of an afterimage—only it disappeared faster than one. She seemed to have phased right through the load of ice spears, bursting straight ahead determinedly toward mage Styles.

It was the fastest he had ever seen anybody move since he got the system. Opal surely wasn’t as fast as he was when using the Killer Dash skill, but he knew her Speed or Agility points must be dwarfing his own. It was also hard to tell if that was pure speed or she was using an ability similar to Killer Dash.

There was no time for Styles to move backwards to create more space between them, so he only formed more sharp ice and constantly launched them all at Opal. At the same time, the ones she’d escaped turned back before hitting the wall and came whistling back at her.

She’s been attacked both front and rear. But she only kept dashing about, sidestepping, twisting, jumping, arching, and doing all she could to not get hit. She was a pro, like a top secret agent maneuvering her way around deadly lasers to get to a target. It was incredible.

With one last burst of speed, Opal shot right past Styles, causing him to finally move, turning slightly in the spot to not lose sight of Opal.

But he was rather too slow. Opal grunted as she swung her arm just inches in front of Styles, and balled her hand into a fist, arching powerfully towards Styles’ face.

Styles whimpered as he lost control of his icicles and raised his hands to cover his face, closing his eyes in expectancy of Opal’s punch. But at the last moment, she stopped, keeping the fist only about an inch from Styles’s face.

It was like she changed her mind and decided to not be that violent after all. Eric realized it wasn’t good that Opal stood so close to Styles without landing the punch. He could summon more icicles and stab her, and there wouldn’t be enough space for her to dodge.

But...

"Son of a bitch," she cursed as she swung her right leg powerfully into Styles’ groin. The kick sent Styles flying in the air while clutching his manhood.

He yelled, a great cry of pain as he landed with a crash onto the wet floor. But Opal wasn’t done. She walked over to him with a mean face and from what Eric could see, she was trying to kick him at the exact spot again.

But suddenly and surprisingly, she clutched her head and fell down sideways, letting out a loud cry of pain.

"What’s gotten over her?" Eric wondered. She twisted and writhed on the floor, thrashing around in apparent pain. Eric was worried.

Styles pushed himself to stand while glaring at Opal with pure hatred visible in those eyes. He still grabbed at his private region, reveling in the sharp pain.

"You dumb bitch!" He kicked her in the face.

Her mouth bled, bursting open. Then it occurred to Eric.

It was the silent boy of the group all along. He was dealing mental pain to Opal. "I have to stop this."

The same thing world have happened to him, being on the floor in pain just like Opal if his system hadn’t blocked the boy’s mental effect.

"Tsk, talk about playing foul," said Eric as he grabbed Opal’s training sword and mouthed, "Use Killer Dash."

Instantly, he let himself move, dashing at blinding speed for just a second. While speeding past Styles, he swung the wooden sword at his head, putting angry power behind it.

Styles’ head cracked.

Fragments of his skull and blood gushed out at an alarming rate. Without as much as a second glance. He sped away towards the silent boy, grabbing and shoving him to the ground recklessly.

The boy must have lost focus because the mental pain left Opal instantly.

He smashed the wooden sword on his head, beating the silent boy until his face turned into a bloody mess. With each blow, he cursed out, grunting and breathing heavily.

Opal had to stand up and stop him.