Beauty X Beast ~ Thirty-Five!

“Resorting to trickery? Why am I not surprised?” Gasteel sneered as he hefted his longsword, voice dripping with disdain. “All he's ever been able to do is hide behind his machines and send them out to do his dirty work! But you know what?”

He turned to his men, his gaze sweeping across them before brandishing his weapon and swinging forward with a grunt of effort. “I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty!”

Even at a distance, Danielle could see the grin plastered on the man's face and shook her head as she realized he couldn't resist putting on a show. The bronze light from the kingdom’s wards barely had time to fade before the grand hall resonated with the deafening clash of steel on steel.

A blinding burst of sparks erupted from the impact of the longsword—engraved with glowing runes—colliding with the Beast’s arm. The warrior seemed surprised that his blade had been stopped, but as the sparks faded away, he saw that the mechanical limb had transformed. The thick metal plating had opened slightly and shifted in configuration before settling as a multifaceted, razor-sharp weapon. 

Capitalizing on the man's surprise, the Beast shifted back and kicked him in the chest. The baron managed to react fast enough to move with the blow, hopping several times as he bled off the momentum of the attack. “This is all the Comte’s champion can bring to bear? This will be over soon, and then…”

He raised his voice, allowing his words to boom across the hall. “Then you'll have an easy choice to make, Belle! I'm going to prove that I have all the power here. I'll give you both a little taste of what I'm capable of. You know I didn't need to demand a duel. I'm fighting because I want to warm up a little and impress upon you all that there are no other choices! These toys are cute, but I have real power in this kingdom!”

Gasteel launched forward, pressing his assault, each swing of his blade more savage than the last. He moved with brutal precision and system-guided accuracy. His style—if it could even be called as such—was absolutely savage. Each strike was not only aimed to kill but to break the spirit and demoralize any onlookers arrayed against him. His muscles bulged out, the attack appearing as a whirlwind of honed steel and immense impacts, which would drive almost anyone to falter beneath the barrage or surrender, instead of testing their might against his.

But the baron wasn’t simply facing a mere conscript, nor was he battling the Beast on its own. The hulking metal machine was being piloted by the Artificer, who had spent countless hours piloting the machine until it was all but an extension of his will. The automaton moved with a fluid grace which belied its size, every emotion carefully calculated, every maneuver a demonstration of mastery. Each time Danielle winced away, expecting a dangling hose to be severed or a joint to be sheared through by the expertly wielded broadsword, the Artificer proved himself to be one step ahead. 

Even with his attacks being met over and again, Gasteel seemed completely unfazed by the challenge. With his speed and strength, he seemed to have the upper hand as he aimed for the Beast’s joints, targeting its weakest points with every attack. “You're just another Beast I'm going to carve up. You see this? There's a lesson here, and you're going to learn how futile- “

His words were drowned out by the ringing of clashing metal as the Beast’s runescript-reinforced body absorbed the blows with minimal damage. As Gasteel over-committed to an attack, the intricate mechanisms shifted and released a burst of steam. The baron was forced away from the hazard, else he’d be risking blisters forming across his exposed skin or losing his eyesight. 

The man stumbled back, covering his eyes before letting loose a snarl as he realized the Comte was holding his own. A wild strike lashed out and found purchase in the Beast's elbow. Danielle gasped, fully expected the machine to lose its arm… yet the now-exposed gears instead rapidly spun and caught the blade. The spinning mechanism *dinged* against the blade with the sound of coppers raining onto a sheet of metal, throwing it off course. Gasteel struggled to control his weapon, being forced to turn and rapidly shuffle away to avoid a follow-up blow which would’ve left him as paste splattered across the wall.

Though his chest was heaving with exertion, his arrogance hadn't been exhausted in the slightest. Gesturing at his sword, now slick with viscous oil dripping down the groove, he let loose a chuckle. “Looks like I took first blood. How about we call it a-”

The warrior darted forward mid-sentence, doing his best to catch the remotely piloted automaton off guard. Instead, he was forced to backpedal as the Beast retaliated with a closed fist. As the blow whistled toward Gasteel’s head, the iron-clad knuckles shifted and reformed into a spiked mace—missing the man's head with inches to spare as he ducked and weaved away.

Slamming down with terrible force, the fist cratered the smooth stone floor and left cracks radiating outward for a yard in either direction. Beside Danielle, the Artificer spoke in perfect synchronization with the Beast's distant form. “Oh, don't let me stop you. I'd love to hear what you were about to say. Your surrender, perhaps?”

“Give up? When I'm having so much fun?” Gasteel doubled down on his bravado as he dashed to the side. Flashing a cocky grin, he dipped down—but it was a feint. His sword gleamed as he came up in a crouch, slashing at the exposed gears of the Beast’s arm, clearly intent on severing the limb once and for all. 

But LeKrout anticipated the move, shifting the Beast’s body with the same finesse he managed back in the workshop while dancing with Danielle. The damaged arm retracted, the plating seamlessly closing up around the vulnerable openings. Completing the motion, a burst of steam propelled a hidden blade from the Beast's open hand. The weighty projectile slammed into Gasteel’s chestplate at point-blank range, denting the steel armor directly above his heart.

The baron staggered back and gasped for breath. Danielle noted with satisfaction that the cocky grin had finally been wiped from his face. Before standing to his full height, the man struggled to regain his composure, giving the Beast more than enough time to reset its position. The Artificer simply waited patiently as Gasteel got into a ready position once more, unconcerned with allowing his opponent to recover.

“You should have taken that chance to finish the fight, Comte.” The hunter-turned-noble’s voice was laced with venom as he aimed his blade. “We seem to be nearly evenly matched, and I'm not going to offer you the same show of weakness when I have you dead to rights.”

“Hold a moment. You think we’re evenly matched?” The Artificer’s calm disdain resounded clearly through the Beast's mouth. “I've been holding back to try and allow you to surrender with some scraps of your dignity intact. Look at you… gasping for air, eyes darting around like a cornered animal as you decide whether you should find an exit to escape though or stay to continue to fail at impressing your soldiers. You should give up. It's a weak man who only fights for attention.”

“Weak? Me?” Gasteel bristled at the Comte’s words. “You're the one cowering behind your toys, while I stand here risking myself for honor! If anyone is a weakling here, it’s you!”

“Being strong is having the ability to do great harm and choosing not to,” LeKrout calmly replied, carefully studying the baron for signs of another attempt at a sneak attack. “Weakness is having no ability to do harm and pretending you won't fight only because of some personal choice. You? You’re the worst of both. You have the ability to do harm and no morals to stand behind. That doesn't make you strong. It makes you a brute.” 

Gasteel’s face contorted with rage, his eyes flashing as he dashed forward once more. Gripping his sword tight enough to bleach his knuckles white, his muscles bulged as he swung with all of his strength. Having given up all pretense of finesse, the baron managed to land a heavy blow on the Beast’s torso—sending a shockwave through the enormous entity. 

The automaton staggered under the impact, stumbling back but quickly regaining its balance, thanks to the unyielding control of the Artificer. Once more, the Beast shifted slightly, this time transforming both hands into massive hammers, which looked like they’d been put to use crushing boulders and forging ingots for years—Danielle realized just before he attacked that likely this was exactly what they were used for.

Then the Beast began swinging his arms with terrible force, its body not bound by the constraints of a human form. Instead of striking and pulling back to throw another hammer blow, its torso rotated freely as it spun on its axis. This meant the strikes continuously came around in a punishing rhythm, pounding against Gasteel’s blade. 

“I won’t lose to… a toy!” Instead of flinching, the baron pushed back against the hits, his eyes blazing with bloodlust as he tried to force the machine off balance. On the fifth hit, he seemed to finally realize he wouldn't be able to overpower the created creature. By the seventh, he had changed tactics, dropping low and charging forward, positioned to move under the hammer blows raining down on him.

Where Danielle stood, she couldn't see the exact maneuver he executed: she could only hear a deafening *clang* of metal on metal as the Beast lost its footing. Its momentum carried sideways and forced the Beast to overbalance. It spun backward, crushing a half-dozen metal soldiers and nearly toppling before managing to right itself and charge back into the fray.

Even with the Artificer's confidence, Danielle felt sick with worry as minute after minute of grueling combat passed. She could see the toll combat was taking on both sides—blood and oil mingling on the ground, the audience of soldiers and automatons growing restless and eager to participate in the violence. Yet, clearly neither side felt any compulsion to surrender. 

“Is that the best you can do, LeKrout? Is this all you have to show after so many years?”

A grunt escaped Kota’s lips, and Danielle slowly turned to stare at him, her wide eyes taking in the strain that maintaining such precise control was etching on his face. Then he crossed his arms and forced himself to stand tall, his gaze narrowing with intense focus. He ground out a few words which were not repeated by the Beast. “Not. Even. Close.” 

Slowly, near imperceptibly at first, the tide began to turn. The Beast’s defenses became more calculated. Strategic showers of superheated steam or viscous stinging oil erupted to disrupt Gasteel’s battle rhythm, and the Beast adjusted to his opponents brutal offense. Small injuries began adding up, tipping the scales in the Artificer’s favor. 

For his part, the baron’s swings came faster, harder, as he realized his stamina was swiftly depleting. Where a lesser man's attacks might have become desperate, Gasteel had an unyielding drive to dominate, so instead, he put all of his effort into maintaining and even exceeding his prior relentlessness.

The combat reached a crescendo as the baron summoned all his strength and stepped forward, his massive sword arcing through the air in a decisive blow. As the weapon descended, a series of *popping* noises rang out. Suddenly the blade accelerated, moving nearly three times as fast, though with far less control guiding its landing. Somehow, using his system skills, the nobleman had formed an explosion behind his weapon. 

Though the Beast twisted away, the swift, brutal attack cut through its neck—cleanly severing through the armored plating, wires, and instantly beheading the machine.

Oil sprayed into the air from the bisected tubes, lighting on fire as it splattered across the spark-coated ground. For a split second, there was silence but for Gasteel’s ragged breathing. The Baron blinked rapidly then unleashed a triumphant roar as his men began to cheer. 

Then the Beast’s arm shot out, smashing into the baron's chest and sending him sprawling to the ground, the heraldry covering his armor blackening in the flames as his sword bounced and clattered away. 

Gasteel looked up from his position on the floor, and even from this distance, Danielle could feel the absolute confusion radiating off the man. “Stop! I won! What is this? Do you have no honor? In an honor duel?”

“Tell me where losing a chunk of armor constitutes losing the duel.” Kota’s voice, mangled as per usual by the Beast’s mechanisms, rang through the dead-silent hall. “You didn't kill my machine. Its head is there for convenience's sake only.”

“You!” As the baron realized the situation he was in, a deranged giggle flew from his lips, but before he could push himself back to his feet, the Beast was standing over him, pressing the baron’s own sword to his neck. “You have lost the duel, Gasteel. Admit your defeat, or we shall see if your head is also only for convenience.”

“I'd rather di-” A soft gurgle came from Gasteel’s lips as his blade dug into his skin. “Whoa, whoa! I’d… I'd rather… walk away. Victory is yours… I yield.”

Once more, the bronze light of the kingdom's wards washed over the two noblemen. However, this time it lingered on LeKrout, and luckily, the Artificer knew exactly what to do. “As per the terms of my victory, I insist that you immediately leave my land, making no further demands on me or mine. That is all. Leave now, bound by honor and the law of the kingdom.”

The bronze light jumped from Kota to Gasteel, striking the sprawled-out man like lightning from a clear sky. As the baron spasmed, his victorious opponent spoke in a softer tone, trying to allow the man to leave with grace. “Let me be clear as to what this means, Gasteel. If you attempt to go against what I have decided on for my victory, all kingdom merits you would otherwise gain for succeeding in your mission today will instead turn into a black mark on your record.”

He paused momentarily to allow the man to process what he was saying, as Gasteel was still laying on his back, sprawled across the floor and heaving for air. “Even if you successfully managed to bring me under your banner, instead of enough prestige to lift you into the higher nobility, you'd instead regress… most likely returning to the position of a Greenhorn under someone else's command.”

“It wasn't… a fair battle,” Gasteel snarled as he scrambled to his feet, hunching forward aggressively as the Beast stepped away. The machine kept its hold on the gleaming sword, ignoring the outstretched hand of the baron. “You used everything you had in this battle and still nearly lost! Even if you managed to land a cheap blow on me, I've proved myself the better of a Comte. I am the better man, and I say-!”

“Is that what you truly think, Baron Gasteel?” Now Kota’s words were as cold and hard as the Beast’s body. “I told you before that I was holding back. Since words don't seem to make it through your thick skull, let me show you. Overclock.”

For the briefest of moments, the Beast shimmered… then vanished from sight. The onlookers released a collective gasp, flinching back as they stared at the scene in shock. For his part, Gasteel stood frozen, mouth open in a snarl as he tried to understand what he’d just seen. “So, you can turn your machines invisible now?”

“No.” The Beast’s mechanical growl sounded right next to the baron's left ear. Only then did the muscled man go stiff in fear, as he felt the edge of his own sword against his throat once again. “I’ve simply refrained from using my Breakthrough skill. I wanted you to be able to see how, even without my most potent magic, I can put you down if needed.” 

“I know your type.” The Beast patted the rigid man on the shoulder in an almost friendly way. “Someone like you would never be able to accept his defeat if I didn't beat it into you. The fact is, I’m immensely strong, skilled, and experienced. If I wanted you dead, I could have ended this fight whenever I wanted. But, Gasteel, as I already explained to you…”

“Being strong is having the ability to do great harm… and choosing not to.”