Swish.
The sound split the air like thunder.
Glen's grin widened instinctively, a reflexive response his body performed before his mind could process what had happened. He opened his mouth to deliver another taunt,
Then he noticed the warmth. His eyes drifted downward, following the strange wet sensation spreading across his right arm. Blood seeped through the fabric of his sleeve, dark and glistening in the candlelight. The cut was clean, precise, running diagonally from shoulder to elbow in a line so perfect it looked like it had been drawn with a ruler.
Glen stared at it with genuine fascination.
I didn't even see it hit me.
He flexed his fingers experimentally. They still worked, though the movement sent a dull ache through his arm. The wound wasn't deep enough to sever muscle, wasn't severe enough to cripple him. But it was there. This speed fascinated him. And he could feel it.
"Interesting," Glen murmured, almost to himself. His analytical mind kicked into gear despite the pain radiating from his arm. "Very interesting."
He knew the techniques. All of them. Every discipline, every school, every style that had ever been documented in the history of swordsmanship.
Sword God Style with its overwhelming aggression and speed. Water God Style with its fluid defense and reading of opponents. North God Style with its unpredictable chaos and adaptability.
He'd studied them all. Memorized their forms. Could recognize their applications even in combat.
But this wasn't any of those. If it was Long Sword of Light or Long Sword of Sound, I'd know it. Glen's eyes narrowed, watching Rudeus's stance. Those techniques require the entire upper body. A full dash forward with the blade extended. That's where the speed comes from, where the power originates.
But this was just a sword slash. Just the arm moving.
Was Rudeus simply that fast? Had his natural speed surpassed human limits to the point where a normal swing became near invisible?
No. That didn't make sense either. Glen looked at the cut again, analyzing the angle, the depth, the trajectory. Then he looked at Rudeus's arm hanging at his side, trembling slightly.
He can't control it fully yet whatever he did. A small smile played at Glen's lips. If he had complete mastery, my arm would be on the floor right now. He's still learning and still refining whatever the hell this technique is.
Which meant there was definitely a flaw. A
weakness to exploit.
Glen's hand tightened around his dagger. He flooded his body with touki, letting the battle aura spread through every muscle, every fiber, every cell. His body immediately felt lighter, more responsive.
I have to block the next one. Can't let him land another clean hit.
He watched Rudeus prepare, saw the subtle shift in stance that preceded another attack. Glen's enhanced perception caught the micro-movements, the way Rudeus's shoulder tensed, the slight adjustment of grip.
There. And that focus he could see the intense focus on his face he had to break it.
Glen moved anticipating the attack. He disappeared from Rudeus's line of sight, his touki-enhanced speed carrying him around to the right flank. His dagger was already positioned for the slash, already aimed at the gap in Rudeus's defense where his missing arm created a blind spot.
The cut came before he could even complete the motion.
Glen felt the blade pass through his left hand, severing tendons and slicing deep into bone. His dagger clattered to the ground as his fingers went numb and useless.
"What the hell," Glen gasped, stumbling backward and clutching his ruined hand. Blood poured between his fingers, hot and slick. "I can't even track this guy."
Both hands now. He's hit both my hands.
The realization should have been terrifying. Should have triggered panic, survival instinct, the desperate need to retreat and regroup.
But all Glen felt was exhilaration.
This pain. This sensation. I can feel it all.
His breathing quickened. From something almost like excitement. Every throb of pain from his wounds was a reminder that he was alive, he was so close to feeling something he was in the grasp of it.
More. I need more.
Glen charged forward. It was reckless. But there was still deadly intent behind it. His hands were both compromised, blood loss was making him lightheaded, and Rudeus clearly had the advantage now.
But Glen didn't care he had to reach this climax feel the euphoria. He closed the distance in three long strides, his body moving on pure instinct and muscle memory. Rudeus's blade came up for another slash.
I'll let it hit me.
Glen threw himself into the attack. He felt the blade cut across his chest, felt it slice through his shoulder, felt pain explode through his torso in waves that made his vision white out for a fraction of a second.
But he was inside Rudeus's guard now.
His boot lashed out in a desperate kick . It connected with Rudeus's wounded body.
Rudeus's eye widened in shock. The impact drove the air from his lungs and sent him stumbling backward. More importantly, it shattered his concentration.
The technique broke. Rudeus's arm erupted in agony. Every muscle fiber screamed in protest, every nerve ending fired signals of distress.
The touki that had been concentrated there dispersed violently, leaving behind damaged tissue and overloaded pathways. He nearly dropped the sword, his fingers spasming and refusing to maintain their grip.
His vision doubled then tripled. The dim corridor twisted and warped around him. The candlelight seemed to stretch and bend, creating shadows that moved independently of their sources.
And when his vision finally stabilized, he wasn't looking at Glen anymore. Eris stood in front of him.
Her red hair was wild as always, framing a face twisted with rage and contempt. Those red eyes that had once looked at him with something approaching affection now held only disgust.
"You," she spat, her voice dripping with venom. "You have some nerve showing your face to me."
Rudeus took a step back. "No. Not again. Please, not again."
Glen watched the change come over Rudeus and started laughing.
It was a genuine laugh this time. Blood bubbled between his lips with each exhale, painting his teeth red.
"Finally," he gasped between laughs. "Finally!"
This whole time, Sylvia had been trapped inside a powerful mental assault. Keeping her consciousness locked away while simultaneously fighting Rudeus had taken nearly all of Glen's concentration. He couldn't use his primary ability on Rudeus while maintaining the prison around Sylvia's mind.
But the moment his kick had connected that barrier had broken.
For his technique to work effectively he either had to be in close distance of the target or have contact and since he knew this girl mental barrier was strong he needed to keep it focused on her so she couldn't join the battle. But things were looking difficult so he chose to put Rudeus in a deep mental prison. So he needed to connect an attack even if that meant risking his body. Knowing rudeus's technique wasn't polished he knew any attack he threw out would be slightly off so he could confidently go in and take an attack.
And now Rudeus was under. Deep under. Trapped in an illusion constructed from his own worst memories and deepest fears.
With no way of waking up.
"I win," Glen said, his voice thick with blood and something almost like genuine joy. "I actually win."
Rudeus's mind was fracturing.
The pain in his body. The blood loss. The exhaustion. And now this illusion of Eris, screaming at him with all the hatred he knew he deserved.
It was too much. I can't… I can't handle this.
His vision was getting darker around the edges. Eris's voice seemed to come from very far away now, distorted and echoing like she was shouting from the bottom of a well.
"—worthless piece of—"
"—always running away—"
"—should have stayed dead—"
The words blurred together into a wall of noise that pressed against his skull from the inside.
His legs felt weak. The sword in his hand suddenly weighed a thousand pounds.
Just let go. Just fall. It'll be easier that way.
The darkness crept closer.
His consciousness began to slip, sliding toward oblivion like water circling a drain.
Then he heard it.
Faint. Barely a whisper. So quiet he almost missed it beneath Eris's screaming.
"Rudeus…?" It was Sylvia's voice.
"Rudeus…?"
She was behind him. He couldn't turn to look, couldn't break his gaze away from Eris's furious face. But he could hear her.
She was awake. Barely conscious from the sound of it, her voice slurred and confused.
But awake. And she'd said his name.
Something shifted in Rudeus's mind. A small crack in the prison Glen had constructed around his consciousness.
Sylvia I almost forgot this whole time I've been only thinking about my own pain but there is a person here I need to protect.
The thought was simple and pretty basic. But it carried weight that cut through the fog of his dispair.
She came for me, and now she needs me.
Rudeus breathed in.
It was a deep breath that let all the mental anguish and pain be sucked all in.
Then out he let all of it out not letting it linger inside of his body anymore.
The darkness receded slightly. Eris's voice became just noise again, stripped of its power to hurt.
This isn't real. She's not here. This is just another layer of the nightmare.
He breathed in again. But Sylvia is real. And she needs me to be strong.
So I'll be strong. Rudeus's grip tightened on the sword. The pain in his arm was still there, still excruciating. But he wouldn't let regular pain hold him down anymore he had to break free for the people who needed him.
He looked at Eris's screaming face one more time. Really looked at it. Studied the fury there, the contempt, the absolute rejection. And he realized something.
The real Eris never looked at me like this.
Even when she'd left, even when she'd walked away without explanation, there hadn't been hatred in her eyes. Confusion, maybe pain, certainly. But not this burning, absolute loathing. This is just how I remembered it how I wanted her to look at me.
I wish she hated me I wish she wanted to kill me but she didn't. This wasnt her.
Rudeus's vision cleared. The calm that descended over him wasn't peace exactly. More like the eye of a storm, where everything became still the storm was still there but he hadn't stepped into it yet.
He took a step forward. Eris continued her tirade, her voice reaching a fever pitch. " I'll never forgive you, never forget what you—"
Rudeus walked past her. His sword moved in a single, casual arc. He let his touki flare the thunder breathing flowed throughout his arm.
The blade passed through Eris's neck like she was made of mist. Her head separated from her shoulders mid-sentence, the word dying on her lips. It hit the ground with a wet sound and rolled, leaving a trail of blood that looked real because it was.
Rudeus didn't look back. "Finally," he said quietly. "Peace and quiet." The illusion was now shattered.
The corridor snapped back into focus with jarring suddenness.
"Impossible," Glen said, though his voice carried more fascination than disbelief. "You broke through. How did you—"
Before he could utter another sentence his head started to fall and he felt his consciousness fading he only felt one thing at this moment looking at Rudeus walking past him.
"I feel it finally it's been so long since I've felt it. This is the first time in so long I've felt true fear. They were right this was the best fight of my life." His head fell to the ground and his body was limp and lifeless.