Bul-Kathos's figure flashed before the Ancient One, his broken twin blades slashing in a relentless frenzy, unleashing a storm of steel. Using the Frenzy technique, a master of all bladed skills, he skipped the initial buildup, diving straight into its fiercest state. His shattered blades couldn't unleash the Whirlwind that defied death, but Frenzy was different—its essence was the venting of rage, an unyielding onslaught that stopped only with annihilation.
As his blades neared the Ancient One, she conjured a glowing yellow shield, its pulsing energy aiming to disrupt his rhythm. Comic-book mages excelled in melee, using counterforce to break an opponent's tempo—a clever trick, often effective.
But had she known Bul-Kathos had used this ceaseless flurry to cleave the siege beast's wall-like hide, grinding its flesh into pulp, she might have chosen differently. Perhaps evasion, if she knew what a siege beast was.
Unaware, her long life and the Time Stone's power dulled her battlefield caution. Fighting as she always had, ignorant of Bul-Kathos, she was quickly reduced to clinging to survival under his blades. The red fury on his swords blazed fiercer, her energy shield teetering on collapse. With a glass-shattering crack, it dissolved into starlight, followed by the sickening sound of flesh tearing. An arm, clad in yellow, turned to blood mist in the storm of his blades.
Human flesh couldn't rival Hell's siege weapons, which left pulp under Bul-Kathos's swords. Human tissue simply vaporized into crimson haze.
Outmatched and uninformed, the Ancient One invoked a power humans shouldn't wield—time. Reality rewound to before she attempted the extradimensional space, Bul-Kathos's roar still echoing, though the brush with death left her shaken.
Prepared for death, she knew it wasn't her time. Peering into time's river, she had chosen her end, but this barbarian nearly unraveled her plans. She studied him closely now, his form still tinged with death's aura. Knowing why he attacked, she opted for a new approach.
The prior clash taught her Harrogath resisted spatial containment, making battle's fallout uncontrollable. She abandoned displays of power. Against an unknown warrior, caution was wise—especially one whose past and future eluded time's river.
"I'm just a decently powered mage," she said, "but this mage has guarded this world for centuries. I need to know your purpose here."
Unlike Doctor Strange, who looped time to outwit Dormammu, she was stronger, aware that tampering with time brought unpredictable consequences. Strange's method was flawed, but effective, so she let it be. Now, she might need similar tactics against this barbarian, though she hesitated to face his rage-fueled might again, even standing on invincible ground. Victory or defeat came only when battle ended, and she could make it endless.
Her words made Bul-Kathos pause. Lacking memory of the "future" fight, he sensed the strangeness. If superhuman powers existed here for centuries, this wasn't the blurred world of his past life. Realizing this Earth wasn't his cradle, he didn't care much. Freed from death's shadow, his Iron Nerves—the talent that fueled his earth-shaking Whirlwind—eased, and he sat, wariness fading.
"What do you want to know, mage?" He pulled a translucent flask, a Nephalem's constant companion, and drank deeply. In Diablo III, these potion flasks, fabled for their variety, refilled every thirty seconds. Bul-Kathos, whimsically, filled his with liquor, discovering the bottle itself healed, not the liquid. His sweet potions became his beloved spirits—no issue, except when uninjured, the flask yielded nothing. To drink, he'd inflict a minor wound his body couldn't instantly heal.
The flask's magic came from itself, imparting power to any liquid—drink the potion, refill with your preferred beverage. "I want to know why you're here and when you'll leave," the Ancient One said, hands behind her back, unmoved. The rich scent of grain and liquor from his flask stirred a rare urge in her to drink.
In Diablo's harsh world, brewing was a luxury. Bul-Kathos's discovery thrilled alcoholic adventurers, who paid dearly for fine spirits. His brew, made from demon lord blood purified by Heaven's nectar, mixed with Earth's best grains, was unmatched. Once merely the mightiest barbarian and finest smith, Bul-Kathos now bore the title of greatest brewer.
(End of Chapter)