122: Only One Left Standing
214 1 5
X
Reading Options
Font Size
A- 15px A+
Width
Reset
X
Table of Contents
Loading... please wait.

I feel almost transcendent with the current amount of energy in my body. I do a light side hop, followed by a dash towards the flank of Spetus and pour my all into one strike with left arm.

Spetus moves to shield himself with the right and we collide. Intense pain travels through my arm. I don’t know how many bones I have broken, but it is probably quite a few. I cancel the bestowal after the impact, but even those few seconds ate a huge amount of mana at this level of enhancement. I can’t use it again.

At the sacrifice of most of my mana and my left arm, it seems I have taken out Spetus’ right arm. At the moment of impact, he flew backwards and dropped his sword. He quickly regained his stance, but now his right arm is hanging limply down his side.

The audience makes noise but I find myself tuning it out, focusing on his next. He is smiling creepily, he really is slightly insane. He will surely go for the sword, he dropped so I dash towards it to prevent him from reaching it.

But he is closer to the sword than I am. He will make it first, unless I do something. I try channeling bestowal in my legs once more, to reach it first.

But alas, as soon as I gain new speed, my mana runs out. The fact that I was ill prepared for the sudden drop in physical ability means I trip and fall into the sand. Though I rise up again quickly, I see Spetus having reclaimed his sword in front me.

Shit, if only it had lasted a little longer. By the time I am back in my stance, Spetus is dashing towards me, but I have an idea.

I dash too, but not to reach him sooner, but rather to align our right sides against each other. And I manage to do so. We both spin our upper bodies to attack with the sword, but because of his less useful hand and the different distances our swords have to travel to reach each other, mine should reach first.

But he doesn’t attack, but rather moves to defend himself from my strike. The swords collide, but his is at an odd, incomplete angle to receive it, probably due to not being used to his left arm, and I can let my sword, though its tip is broken, slide along his to cut him in the chest.

This causes him to flinch, allowing me to draw yet another slice across his stomach. He pushes through it and has raised his own sword to counter-attack.

I desperately maneuver my own to receive, but yet again, it eats into mine. This time, very close to the base.

In one split second decision, I decide to let go of the sword, and defend myself with my arm, while delivering a high kick to the side of his head. He goes flying a little. And he isn’t getting back up. Did I win?

My hand feels off, so I turn to look at it. Ah. I ended up grabbing the lower edge with my four non-thumb finger and all are sliced off. Once I realize this, intense pain sets into me.

I have a weird premonition, but once again I look over Spetus and he isn’t moving.

Awareness of my surroundings return. And all I can hear are an absolute shower of jeers. What, why? I didn’t engage in any dirty trick here, we fought with all our might from the get go.

Suddenly, Porar is beside me. How did he get right beside me without noticing? Oh, right, I am out of mana, so the spatial perception of read no longer applies.

“Good Job, hold up a hand and claim victory” Porar says. But which one. One is so busted that any movement is intensely painful and the other is missing four digits

I end up holding up the least-painful hand, the one with only a thumb. In fact, I give a thumbs-up, just because it is the only way I can think to hold it.

“Do you need those?” Porar is pointing towards my bloody fingers in the sand. I shake my head.

“Why would I need them?”

“Well, we could attach them through alchemical paste and a talisman, so I was just thinking about that.” But that is a waste of resources, it will return again tomorrow anyways. I just shake my head.

“Now comes the big cheeses” Porar mutters and from a portcullis, Ahorn and the old man emerge.

As they approach, the jeers die down. Right, fuck you, stop ruining my moments of glory.

And of them, Ahorn raises his voice to a rather loud level.

“Champion! Your deeds have been confirmed to be that of the highest order. We now extend an invitation to work alongside us, the hero and the leader, to further humanity, do you accept.” Doesn’t he recognize me at all?

“I do” I match his level of voice, and soon after jeers try to start up again, but they are dashed by Ahorn holding up an arm with a flat hand.

“Then, let us work together from here on out!” He says and extends his hand, which I grab without thinking… Or like, try to, but his hand is quickly covered in a smear of blood. We’re both idiots.

5