A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

No, in fact, it was worse than that. Much worse. He had never experienced a difference in aura so great that it felt like his limbs were heavier.

Of course, there was fear – there was always fear. Beam was used to fear, and he was used to pain. To a struggler, those were merely facts of life.

But an actual physical change? That was new. It was as though he was caught in several thousand spiderwebs, and they slowed his every movement as he fought to rid himself of him. But all the while, the spider was only adding more threads, and if Beam's heart weakened for even a moment, he was sure he'd be trapped in place.

Against a threat so overwhelming, against what should be certain death, three parts of him responded separately.

From Claudia's blessing, there came an overwhelming pang of despair, as though the Goddess herself was taking pity on his situation.

From Ingolsol's curse, there came maddened delight, as shadowy fingers grasped up towards the moon, and invited more chaos into the mortal world.

And from Beam, he that had subjugated both of those fragments of Gods, there came… anger.

He could feel it. Despite the creature's strength, despite that overwhelming physicality, he could sense weakness in it, a weakness of soul.

Just as with the evolved hobgoblin, he could tell what lay beneath that flesh. Just because it could decimate several trees in a single swing, it did not mean its soul had grown.

Beam wasn't sure what that meant. He wasn't sure if this was merely a limitation in the ritual that the shadows performed. If perhaps it was the limitations of the crystals that they used instead. But the soul in the creature was no greater than that of a hobgoblin, he could tell.

His body feared it, yet his heart belittled it. He needed a way to prove its weakness.

The Titan didn't care about his ridicule, for it could not feel it. Nothing in physical reality supported that sensation. The creature charged towards him, faster than any Gorebeast, its legs full of power.

Just before it hit, it lifted one of those front arms up – they were indeed more like a goblin's arms than a Gorebeast's legs, for they had such dexterity – and sent a fist charging towards Beam at a truly outrageous speed.

Never before had Beam had to fight something so fast.

There was a loud noise, as this fist hit even harder than the last one. It pounded straight into the frosty earth, sending dirt flying, and leaving a crater the size of a large puddle, with a similar depth. But such was the strength needed to compress the dirt at all.

Beam realized, watching it, that if he was caught even once, his limbs would likely be shattered. Especially if he was caught in one of those downwards crushing attacks that the creature seemed to be so fond of doing – that would certainly cave in his skull and fracture his spine.

His eyes were narrowed in dismay as the creature kept up this reckless assault. He could feel his body shivering from the fear. The difference between these two life forms was so immense. It was like a tiny tropical fish caught in the eyes of a great white shark.

But even as his body trembled, Beam's rage only continued to build. He could see no opening, nor could he even envisage victory at all.

The least he could do was roll out of the way at the last second. But the strikes were getting closer and closer. Beam's body had reached a limit hours ago. The physical endurance needed to battle all night long as he had, was something approaching legendary. And now, as if the Gods themselves were cursing him, a threat far eclipsing the rest had spawned when he was in his worst shape.

Beam was forced back towards the cliff, as he continued to dodge around the clearing. Flames were still flickering on smouldering bits of wood, as they were strewn everything through the clearing. He had to step through hot ash and smouldering embers as he ran.

The Titan seemed half confused, with so many different creatures wound into one. He had the erraticness of a goblin, but to a more disturbing degree. It would charge at him, intent on running him down, as it did so now.

It charged towards him, backing his back against the cliff. And then, for the second time, it ground to a halt, just out of range, and began to slowly walk him down, using its body as a threat, cutting off the areas in which Beam could safely move.

It would yoyo between those two modes of attack, those two strategies. It was truly broken.

It was then that Beam realized that its soul was even weaker than that of a hobgoblin – for at least a hobgoblin was one entity. Now, present in this creature, it was clear to see that there was more than one consciousness battling for control.

A fist came streaming past Beam's face, and pummelled its way into the rock behind it.

Beam managed to duck under the outstretched arm as it connected with the rocky wall, just in time for a stream of stone to come flying down, blanketing where he was just standing.

Both goblins, and this creature struggled to retain control of their erraticness. Horned goblins had evolved past that. Why? What was it about those creatures, in their states, that lent him that? What was the connection between this beast's behaviour, and that of a goblin?

He assumed it was because of the numerous souls battling each other for authority. But was that the case in goblins as well? He didn't know. It could have been the case that, the monstrousness inside a goblin was undeveloped – that it was still at war with whatever animal or whatever bit of organic matter it had possessed, and thus had not successfully subordinated it yet.