The Leviathan advanced toward the Thunderbird, each step sending shock-waves over the sandy beach, transformed into a muddy arena by the rain pouring down in torrents.
The monster roared. The man stood, his Thundermace raised above his head, ready to be hammered over the ground. Outside cool as ice, inside Euro was repeating to himself, like a mantra: "Please please please let a lighting fall over the lizard please please please."
As the mace began its fall toward the ground, at an incredible faster speed the tail of the beast whipped at Euro, hitting him at full force. His body was sent half a kilometre away.
Knell's clone laughed madly at how easily he defeated his adversary. He, like the others, was perfectly aware of the powers of the Vanguardians. And knew perfectly that since his return to La Perdita, the Italian has lost all of his powers. Stripped of his wings, now he had to rely over mechanical ones. And his strength was gone from much, much longer.
So it was the lizard's jaw, this time, to drop, when he saw the hated Italian flying at full force toward him, branding the mace like a ram.
The collision was powerful, as the impact of the mace called on lighting from the sky, that fell down hitting the beast. The Leviathan screamed in pain, but nothing more. He was still standing, towering over the Thunderbird half lying on the sand. Protected by the coat of Oddr Arrow-Tip, the magical garment of a past incarnation of the Eternal Champion as a Viking hero, the Vanguardians was protected by whatever harm, unless he would withdraw. But he was not in the mood to experiment if that was true, and so he rolled away just a moment before the gigantic foot squashed the ground.
Running or flying away would have made him totally invulnerable at the powerful claws of the monster. Remaining there, to exchange blows for blows, would have tired him to death. Edulcore gritted his teeth, as there was no way out.
It was then that the memories assailed his mind. The memories of all the time he had to fight dragons under the face of so many different knights, heroes, and saints. All the times he raised a spear, a sword, an axe... and before that, a wooden club... toward some scaled monster... always looking for the same point... the soft spot under the throat where the scales are absent to allow the neck to bent down.
The wings stretched out of the backpack, and flapped. The mace was put over the ground, and Durendal taken from the point where Bri had left her.
Euro smiled, and fled.
The beast was arriving, running at a velocity seemingly impossible for a best of that size. Luckily, a mindless clone, fighting blindly like the one in La Perdita, like when they were in the pit of the EPS. Luckily, not the vicious mind he found just months before in the Castle of Crossed Destinies. Luckily, not the Knell he knew.
Euro swung, hovering in front of the beast face. The Lizard giant stopped, waving his claws at the meta, like a guy happily catching an annoying mosquitos.
The impact pushed Euro toward the ground. while falling, he simply protruded his arm outside, toward the monster. In the hand was Durendal.
The sword cut across the soft throat, leaving a deep mark, soon a crimson fountain.
Euro hit the sand hard, but, although shaken, was quickly on his feet. The beast fell just metres away, and the sand was so damp even a single grain wasn't raised.
All of a sudden, a former though returned to the Italian meta. His eyes went to the monitor, where Merlin was inciting his warriors. The doubt was still there.
He took again the mace and again hammered it on the ground. More lighting shook the sky.
"Enough with this rain, Ed!" shouted from far Brianna. "I am sick of being soaked!"
But the Italian didn't ear her. His eyes were fixed over the monitor and the image of Merlin, crisp and clear under that magnetic chaos.
