Before he could finish his thought, the large skeleton had dashed towards him and was performing a downward chop with his vicious longsword. Without time to doge, Marshall opted to parry the strike. As the blades clashed, he diverted the impact towards his left side. Fortunately, he avoided the heavy strike but not without unintended consequences.

His hands were numb from the impact. He was shocked by the Immortal King’s strength but was unaware that the clash had sown a seed of fear within his heart. Marshall exited his dazed state and moved to encircle his foe, trying to create distance.

The Immortal King slowly turned to face the young man. When Marshall’s eyes met the skeleton’s, he unknowingly took a single step back.

This act didn’t escape his opponent, “Have some backbone human! Hah!”

With a shout, the skeleton charged forward delivering the same downward chop, and Marshall responded as he did previously. However, mid-swing the trajectory of the slash was changed which forced Marshall to block wholeheartedly. He slid back about a meter, and now both his arms were numb.

Without a method to attack, Marshall began to back away rapidly from his opponent.

[Why are his attacks so strong? Even the shieldmen were only slightly above average, but he’s 2x no, maybe 3x stronger. I’ll try and drag it out and wait for an opportune moment to strike.]

Marshall began to formulate a plan to evade the skeleton but could not finish his thoughts before the Immortal King once again attacked him. This time, the undead used light attacks and Marshall soon found himself overwhelmed. The skeleton’s swings were simple but fast. Each strike forced Marshall to either parry or dodge, but more than 50% went through and left cuts of varying sizes across his body.

While fighting defensively, Marshall failed to notice that the skeleton was corralling him towards a corner of the room. It was only when he jumped backward to dodge a slash aimed at his midsection that he crashed into the wall. When he tried to escape, another swing cut off his path. The Immortal King continued to pressure him backward, landing many shallow cuts.

[He must be getting tired right? No one can swing their sword so aggressively for so long without feeling a bit of exhaustion.]

By now fear was blooming in Marshall’s heart, and a vital detail had slipped his mind. Undead had limitless stamina. Soon, he felt on his back a wall.

[I need to just find the right opp-]

Realization struck Marshall. He had tunnel-visioned and failed to notice that he was being led into a trap. The skeleton didn’t miss his opportunity, as he switched to heavier strikes to rapidly sap the human’s stamina. Marshall was obligated to block every strike as he no longer had any space to dodge. Each slash numbed his arms and he found himself barely able to wield the blade.

More than his physical condition, Marshall’s mental state was slowly crumbling. The difference in physical strength and speed is being augmented by the killing intent that the Immortal King is releasing. Marshall’s usually sharp mind is being dulled and having never faced true killing intent is reacting as most humans would. In fact, just by being able to move and think, Marshall was outperforming most of mankind. The question was not if he would fall prey to fear but when.

*Thump* * Thump*

[I need to-]

*Thump* *Thump*

The 3-meter-tall skeleton performed a strong diagonal strike. With shaky arms, Marshall managed to avoid being hit but his grip on his sword was broken. The blade ricocheted off the stone wall and clattered away. The skeleton stepped to block the path to the sword while simultaneously opening up a path to escape.

Part of Marshall wanted to try and grab the sword, but another voice urged him to just run. These two voices grew louder into a deafening volume until the voice to run claimed dominance. With a fear-stricken face, Marshall took the path to escape. Perhaps there was a mechanism to open an exit or some hidden tool to defeat the skeleton. Honestly, these thoughts are just excuses to justify his choice. As he ran past, the Immortal King did not try to impede him, but one could see a glint of disappointment in his fiery eyes.

Marshall ran towards the opposite corner and tried to scan the walls for clues, meanwhile, the Immortal King stood in place and watched him. The young man’s actions became more and more frantic as he scanned the walls for some kind of exit.

“Is that it?”

The Immortal King’s deep and grail voice rang out.

“I watched you dismantle my subordinates with surgical precision. All the while you seemed to be having fun. I didn’t expect you to defeat me, but give me a few surprises, make it interesting. But…you are pathetic. Is your resolve so flimsy that you run at the first challenge?”

Each phrase was akin to a knife being stabbed into Marshall’s heart.

“Or are you simply scum that bullies the weak but bows to the strong? How can you survive when you give up your only tool for survival? You have disappointed me. Unfortunately, I'm not much of a nice guy so don't bother surrendering.”

With these words, the Immortal King’s skeletal face contorts into a fiendish grin.

As Marshall hears the skeleton’s words, he feels shame and frustration. His behavior validates the critique. Who could blame his though? In front of such an opponent, about half would have never made past the Immortal King’s subordinates, while the other half would’ve been completely frozen in front of this 3-meter monster. Why was he being judged on a different standard than others?

[Why am I constantly being held to a higher standard? Why am I never allowed to make a mistake? Why must I be perfect? How is that fair?!?]

Marshall can’t help but tighten his fists and clench his teeth.

“Seems like you’re frustrated. Weak-willed and short-tempered the characteristics of a truly pathetic man. You’re probably thinking how this is fair? Fairness is not something that the weak get to determine, only the strong can judge. Welcome your fate and disappear.”

The Immortal King dashes with more speed than before towards Marshall with his signature downward chop, however, this time the black sword is glowing with a green light. As he watches the blade descends, Marshall sees it moving in slow motion.

[So, I just die here…]

[But…I’m filled with so much frustration and regret. Damn it! What can I even do against someone like him?]

As he shuts his eyes to accept his demise a voice from the back of his mind calls out to him. It’s a familiar voice, the voice of his father.

[Marshall…Marshall you are a Sofran. A Sofran knows only do one path: the way of the sovereign, the path of the absolute. Never allow your will to falter or break. Even if Death stares you down with her wretched eyes, look back into those empty sockets, so she knows what a privilege it was for her to claim your soul. Remember son, you are a Sofran.]

After those last words, Marshall’s eyes fly open just to see the sword mere centimeters from his face. With animal-like reactions, he leaped to the right and went into a roll. As he stood up, he felt a warm and sticky fluid dripping from his body. He observed with an expressionless face the gash that extended from his left shoulder to his left armpit.

Disregarding his now immobile left arm, Marshall sprints towards his previously abandoned sword. Firmly gripping the sword in his left hand, he turns the blade and looks at the reflection of his eyes. Sharp violet eyes, the same as his old man. The same eyes that made him feel so much pain are the key to saving his life.

“Seems like I forgot something important.”

“Oh? And what would that be?” The Immortal King asked with an amused tone.

“That I have no reason to fear someone like you. A hollow existence such as yourself should be grateful to stand in my presence.”

“Haughty words for someone so weak.”

“Heh. Honestly, I’m fairly certain that I’ll die, but…,” Marshall tightens the grip on his sword and smirks, “I if I must go, I’ll leave on my own terms.”

“Hahahahaha! Good! GOOD! This is what I wanted. I won’t hold back at all human. Come!”

“This time with feeling, 2^nd sealed technique: Burn Out!”

An invisible aura similar to a heat haze is released from Marshall’s body.

In the blink of an eye, both combatants rush towards the center of the room and the second round of their battle starts with the clashing of their swords.

saturrn

Set it to release Saturday night, but it didn't...Well here is this week's second chapter, and I hope you enjoy it. Cheers!