Deathstalker 03 - Deathstalker War

defensive
    moves as he studied his opponent's style, moving round and round in slow, cautious circles, searching out Half A Man's weaknesses and vulnerabilities. It didn't take Owen long to realize that Half A Man didn't have any. The energy half supplied him with endless strength and speed, so he never grew tired, and he knew more about swordsmanship than Owen ever would. Owen boosted, becoming immediately faster and stronger, and launched his own attack. Half A Man sped right up with him, and calmly stood off everything Owen could throw at him.
    Strength burned in Owen's arms, and he sped up again, pushing his boost to the limits. His sword moved so fast it was only a blur. And for the first time, Half A Man fell back a step.
    Owen pressed the attack, cutting at Half A Man's defending sword like a woodsman attacking a stubborn tree. In that moment, Half A Man represented to him everything he hated about the Empire, and he laughed aloud as he threw himself at his enemy. Half A Man had stopped smiling, but held his ground and would not retreat another step. And it occurred to Owen that whereas Half A Man's great strength and speed came from the endless store of his energy half, Owen's boost was of strictly limited duration. Which meant, if he didn't find a way to finish this fight soon, the odds were he wouldn't be finishing it at all. So he put all his strength and speed into one attack, a hammering blow with all his Maze-given talents behind it that slammed right past Half A Man's defense, and crashed down on his human skull.
    For a long moment Owen's sword seemed to hesitate, as though frustrated by some unseen energy barrier, and then all the Maze's gifts and strengths concentrated themselves in Owen's blow, a more-than-human impetus that would not be denied, and the sword crashed on. The great and heavy blade cut down through Half A Man's human face, right next to the energy's dividing line, and then carried on
    down, cutting the human half away from the energy until the crimson blade erupted from the groin in a rush of blood and guts. Owen staggered backwards as his sword came free, all his strength and speed disappearing as he dropped out of boost. Hazel and Giles caught him and kept him from falling. And together they watched as Half A Man's human half fell to lie thrashing and bleeding to death on the platform. The energy half still stood where it was, motionless.
    "How the hell did you do that?" said Hazel.
    "Damned if I know," said Owen.
    They moved forward to stand over the twitching human half, giving the energy half a wide berth. The human half was dying by inches, but it was dying. Guts and organs had fallen out of the huge wound down its side, and blood streamed across the platform, welled over the edge, and dripped onto the tracks below.
    Owen watched the half man die with divided feelings. Half A Man had been his enemy, opposed to everything Owen now believed in, but it was hard not to see in him a man shaped by implacable outside forces into a legend he had never chosen for himself. Owen could understand that. It was the story of his life, too. He knelt down beside the half body, and took the trembling hand in his. The eye in the half head had sunk right back in the socket, but it rolled slowly over to look up at Owen. Half A Man tried desperately to say something, but couldn't make his mouth work. Owen leaned over him, but his enemy was already dead. Owen gently pulled his hand free from the dead grip and got to his feet.
    "What do you suppose he would have said?" murmured Hazel.
    "Damn you to hell, probably," said Owen. "He always was single-minded, for a man with only half a brain."
    Giles clapped Owen on the shoulder, making him jump.

    "Well done, kinsman. You fought a good fight, for an historian."
    "I could have used some help," said Owen. "Why didn't you two join in?"
    "Oh, I couldn't allow that," said Giles. "It wouldn't have been sporting."
    "Stuff sport," said Owen. "This is war."
    "And war is the greatest sport of all," said Giles. "You're an historian. You should know that."
    "It's only sport to the victors," said Owen. "Not to the victims and the orphaned and all the poor bastards dragged into it against their will."
    "Uh, guys," said Hazel. "I think we have a problem…"
    They both looked round to follow her pointing hand. The sundered energy half was still standing where they'd left it, but its shape was slowly changing. The coruscating energy pulsed and flowed, pushing at the