The first two blades to come sweeping at him were shattered entirely in fountains of white and green sparks. Another blade struck his chest and rebounded in another shower of sparks, even as he caught a fourth in a literal steely grip and calmly drove the blade down through the limb of the other vord before him, slamming it through the vord and into the bedrock below, trapping one blade-beast in place with the piercing limb of the second. His sword flashed once, dispatching the trapped beast—and then he spun and drove his left fist forward, through the second beast’s guard and into its head. His metallic fist smashed through the blade-beast’s skull like a warhammer, until he had sunk his arm halfway to the elbow in the creature’s skull. He withdrew his arm with a calm, smooth motion, and the blade-beast collapsed.

He had barely moved his feet.

The vord Queen’s eyes narrowed, and she streaked toward Araris again, her sword flashing. Again, sparks flooded the hive, and Isana had to lift her hand to shield her eyes against them. By the time the two had parted once more, a second cut, almost precisely parallel to the Queen’s first injury, but an inch closer to her throat, also graced her cheek.

“Speed isn’t enough,” Araris said in a gentle voice. “Not by itself. Your technique is sloppy. You haven’t drilled enough.”

The vord Queen’s mouth spread into a very slow smile. Her eyes raked Araris, moving up and down his gleaming form, as she said, “Metal skin. Impressive. Painful?”

“Quite,” said Araris.

The Queen made a quick gesture of her left hand, and the temperature in the hive seemed to drop. Crystals of ice formed upon Araris’s steely skin, first here and there, then in a thick, spreading blanket. Isana felt the surge of agony in Araris, as the torment of the frozen steel began to gouge at him even through a metalcrafter’s insulation against pain.

“And now more so,” the Queen said, and launched another attack.

Araris made his first defensive movement, and there was the peculiar sound of squealing metal. He screamed in sudden agony, a pain so great that it broke through his metalcrafting and left him at its mercy, raking against Isana’s senses like frozen claws. He reeled back before the Queen, howling in pain with every tormented movement. He parried the first two blows, and the third, but missed the fourth, and the Queen’s sword struck his shoulder.

There was a peculiar, hollow sound, and a webwork of cracks abruptly spread over the surface of his metallic skin.

Araris choked on another scream, his eyes wide and round, as the agony drove him down to one knee before the vord Queen.

“You cannot stop me,” the vord Queen said. Her sword kindled to green-white flame as she loomed over Araris. “None of you can stop me.”