Skewed

His club was knocked out of his hands, Lightning coursing up and down his nerves as the appendage twitched uncontrollably, tendons tearing and muscles burning from the movements and the electricity.

His preemptive activation of Reflexive Zero saved him from the shield, but not from the woman's Manifest Power. The Imprints left him with a sting, but not much else. There wasn't that much physical force behind the strike, due to the odd way she had had to move.

The Metal woman caught the Lightning one with her Divine Reach, settling her down gently as the two grinned victoriously. The woman in metal even cracked what Fate assumed was a joke as they waited for him to descend.

Fate winced and shook his hand, twiddling his fingers and flexing the tendons to see what motion he had left, if any.

His diagnosis wasn't favorable.

'Three fingers are dead and my thumb and index finger hurt like hell when I curl them,' he ascertained. 'Could be worse, I suppose.'

He brought his new club back into his left hand with a use of his Divine Grasp, spinning it as he hopped off of the warthog.

'Fighting superpowered warriors with one hand. Nothing new.'

Joka wasn't doing too well.

He had already lost a finger to one of these Verfendans, and another had carved a chunk of meat out of his leg. But finally, things were looking up.

The first woman to fall did so by his hands.

The boars had long since been slain, neither side finding them worth the hassle or the distraction and unanimously deciding to work together to kill the creatures before turning on each other.

In that chaos, Wan had been slain, the woman who did so holding his severed head high to the cheering crowd above. Joka didn't take kindly to people killing his men.

He rammed into her from behind, just like she had run Wan through, and grabbed each of her arms before violently tearing her apart.

Men and women alike watched on in hushed silence as he tore the woman into smaller and smaller chunks until all that was left was chunks of scrap metal and assorted viscera. Only the pale one and his two foes seemed blissfully unaware of what was happening as they fought their own battle.

Joka snorted like the boars when they had come out of their dark hiding places as he stood above his kill. With a thought, the woman's sword flew into his hands, and he turned and hurled it at another of his foes like a boomerang.

The target brought forth a wall of ice to stop the projectile, but the overpowering strength behind the throw shattered the barrier and sent the sword straight through the woman's head.

Her last expression was one of shock as she toppled to the floor, the top half of her head sliding off and coloring the dust below red.

In an instant, the odds grew more balanced, six men from the Auburn Wastes against eight armed and armored Verfendans.

The projectile obediently returned to Joka's outstretched hand, signaling the resume of the battle. Women hurled Elements and attacked with swords as men used their raw physical might or, in Nedren's case, unrelenting speed to defend and counterattack.

The air was practically boiling as massive amounts of Divine Energy were flung to and fro, normally invisible energy concentrated so much that even a mortal could see the paths it took.

The different flavors of energy tasted the others and found them lacking, the reaction of so many different kinds like a mint thrown into soda.

Joka strode forward with heavy steps, not about to let the empress send in more warriors on the grounds of 'resting.'

Fighting two against one was never easy, especially when you were out-Leveled, out-armored, and out-gunned.

But Fate made do with his lot, suffering scratches and deep cuts as his attacks were rebuffed again and again.

The Lightning woman was much too fast to hit when she knew what was coming, and was more than speedy enough to protect the other woman as well. She would often change directions abruptly and feint attacks, allowing the Metal Embodiment to extend that annoying sword and snag what Fate called a cheap shot.

The blades themselves could harm Fate even when he used his Manifest Power, the Imprints of sharpness and the women's Divine Energy within the blades allowing them to make contact.

That was where his cuts came from; the only reason he was still in one piece was because of his focus on defense.

To top it all off, the Lightning lingered within him.

The inconvenient twitches he experienced as his Concept worked away at the Element combined with his less-than-receptive right hand was enough for either girl to land an extra shot on him many times, allowing them to pile on the wounds.

But even as Personifications, their stamina had limits. And as his aura coated them longer and longer, their Manifest Powers grew weaker and weaker. While he was apprehensive to extend his aura to the others, keeping it around in its normal twenty-foot radius was more than enough to affect these two.

And as they slipped up throughout the fight, Fate made sure to punish them with his club.

This buff he gained in the Avatar Level was something he had forgotten about entirely during his fight with the Advanced that held Shyv Palar captive, but he was also dealing with the memories of three entire lives and experiences.

His mind was muddled with thoughts of what Fate from Brergan and Kravoss could do and not what Fate from Styx could do. Although his dragon scales were enough to make up for his oversight, he still chided himself for forgetting such an important tool in his toolbox.

The three had been battling for over an hour now, and Fate could see the telltale signs of tiredness in their movements. Their Manifest Powers were now completely suppressed, leaving them with just their swords and shields.

But the two women were still trained warriors, women who had been battling since they came of age. Their experience, Imprinted weapons, and superior numbers were enough to keep the fight still skewed in their favor.

The admittedly weak Imprints were something Fate couldn't suppress with his aura, and could still harm him even while intangible since they weren't Manifest Powers.

His prospects of winning the fight were dim.