Clang! Clang!

 

The streets were ruined.

 

Sword slashes decorated the concrete road and splashes of toxic poison fumes drifted listlessly in the air and occasionally followed the wind.

 

“Hah… You are quite the roach, are you blessed by God to have such tenacity?” Callum asked jokingly.

 

Callum’s armor had scraps and was melted and singed in some places but seemed overall as if he went through a rather unlucky walk than an intense fight.

 

His opponent on the other hand faced him with blood dripping from his face and wore his wounds to the world to see.

 

“Cough… you're still joking, playing with me…”

 

William coughed out blood, his inner organs had been damaged quite a few times.

 

He didn’t understand why the Suspect kept fighting. For what purpose did this serve? To breed and spread chaos to the world? Callum shook his head — he would never understand and he never will.

 

“For what purpose should I treat a rabid animal the same way I do to other humans?” Callum chuckled a bit then followed, “You make quite the funny remarks, roach.”

 

The Suspect in front of him held the capsules in a strong grip, ready to throw them if needed. For a brief moment, and it may have been the afternoon heat haze, but he seemed to have a sad smile before it disappeared the next moment.

 

The Suspect shook his head and closed his opened mouth then reopened it, “It doesn’t matter, let us fight then, Knight!”

 

For the first time since the fight began, Callum wore a smile. Not one of arrogance but one that he wore when he found something pleasing — something that synced with his own mindset.

 

“Yes, let's!”

 

Woosh!

 

The settled dust shot back into the air where Callum’s feet raced from.

 

With his sword high pointing towards the sky, an illusory feeling overcame the battlefield once more.

 

If the Suspect could compare to one thing at the current moment - it would be the heat haze from the afternoon sun.

 

Clang!

 

Callum’s sword missed its mark once more and the Suspect had thrown five more capsules from varying angles once again.

 

Poosh!

 

Callum emerged from the smoke with his sword, ready to cut his opponent into pieces.

 

“Are you going to go against me in a sword duel?”

 

William had picked his metal bat once again from the ground and pointed its tip at Callum. Callum himself looked incredulous at the sheer bravery — or perhaps it was stupidity — that gave him the idea to fight close quarters against a Knight.

 

“What if I am? Don’t you know the quote: ‘Fortune favors the bold’?”

 

William’s head felt light yet heavy, it was a strange contradicting feeling that made him feel as if he was drunk. The feeling itself came from the blood loss, that much he knew but he also knew that if he didn’t make any radical decisions, it could be the end of his life in a unimportant manner.

 

A crazed and deranged smile overcame Willaim’s face as slight dizziness had started to also make his way into his mind.

 

“Hah… You don’t even look like an insect anymore. You look more like a drug filled parrot more than anything, squawking and squawking away…”

 

Callum’s eyes found its way onto a digital clock inside a cafe, the time read ‘10 a.m.’, two hours had already passed in this cat and mouse game. The other Knights must have already finished their battles either emerging victorious and helping the other or have perished in battle, never to be seen again.

 

‘No…’

 

An overwhelming sense of dread befell Callum, his eyes widened and several graphic scenes of his fellow Knights dying brutally flashed through his mind.

 

The mere seconds were enough for a capsule to be in front of his face.

 

Pssshh-!

 

The acid green liquid melted through his armor and face to some degree but he was able to block it at the last moment, minimizing the damages done.

 

It was the first major injury on Callum since the fight began.

 

“What was that about a parrot? If anything with the green on you now, you look like more of a parrot than me.” William’s bat sat on his shoulder while his other hand arrogantly moved around exaggerating his speech, “Squawk, squawk.”

 

Callum’s eyes sharpened and an overflowing amount of concentration deepened his sense of time.

 

The mocking words of William fell on deaf ears, normally they would have aroused a sense of anger within him but now, only a icy cold feeling was the only thing he could feel.

 

“?”

 

William could feel it. The change was too significant to ignore, a slight breeze passed by but it felt as if a glacier was behind him and spreading the cold to him, giving him goosebumps in the process.

 

He could see within Callum’s eyes a bloodthirsty man with only one goal in his mind: his death.

 

Clang!

 

The metal bat successfully defended him that allowed him to live just a bit longer.

 

“What? Don’t want to talk with poor ol’ me anymore?”

 

‘He realized…’

 

Imaginary sweat dropped from Willaim’s forehead. His goal wasn’t to kill the Knight, it was mere stalling for time. That was the best he could do anyways and he obliged.

 

Swipe-

 

The sword narrowly missed as he swung his head back, a few pieces of hair were cut as a result.

 

“Hahaha! You realized now didn’t you!? Hahaha!”

 

William couldn’t stop laughing. It was a kind of uncontrollable laugh that only came out when someone was truly in a laughing mood.

 

He was the one at a disadvantage, yet in this moment in the fight, the tides seemed to favor him a bit.

 

“Hahaha!!! I-I can’t stop…!” Immature giggles came out and his body shook.

 

Callum’s grip tightened to the point where the sword shook and a vein popped out his forehead. With how tight his jaws were, it almost made him think as if they were trying to intentionally break his teeth.

 

“...I’m ending this…”

 

A whisper came out and his sword stabilized again. His sword pointed to the sky, ready for a final attack.

 

The wind stirred.

 

Dust moved according to Callum’s will. It was a technique that required almost all of his strength, but this time he used it all. All of his strength was poured into this attack.

 

His blade moved in a flow of movements that gathered wind onto his blade.

 

The wind covered his sword like a sheath.

 

He had created a vortex around his sword, a scene only imaginable in fantasy had appeared in real life.

 

The name for the technique itself was lost through time but through his own research it was most likely branched off from Aiki of the Japanese. His predecessors had changed it so that it could be used with a sword in hand.

 

“Huu…”

 

“...”

 

What else could he but just watch as the wind seemed to bend to a human’s will? Nature itself bent to this man in front of him, what else could he not do?

 

“Ha-”

 

He couldn’t even see the attack.

 

Yet in the next moment, he was split in half. It was instant, he didn’t even see the sword move down till his last breath.

 

But with his job fulfilled, William Black of the Cult of Whitechapel closed his eyes and laid rest eternally.

 

“Hah… Hah…”

 

Callum’s entire body ached, the move was inefficient, too much wasted movement. But he stood and walked until he went inside the labyrinth.

 

He leaned his body against the mirrors trying to find at least one of his comrades that had been with him for over a decade.

 

‘Please… anyone…! Please…!’

 

He was such a fool, only then did he realize how much of a fool he was. Even without his aching body that felt as if it would just collapse at any moment, an unimaginable amount of grief and regret washed over Callum.

 

‘Shit! Shit shit shit!!!’

 

Anger replaced his grief for a moment, mad at himself, at the world, at everything… His slow pace only frustrated him more.

 

‘...Please… just one… anyone… please…’

 

His hand clenched trying to reason with reality, it all felt like a bad dream. Just earlier in the day he had talked to each and every one of the Knights, now they were gone? Just like that?

 

‘Please…’

 

The word spread across his head like a mantra, repeating it over and over again trying not to accept that he had failed his duties as a Knight and had prioritized his own selfishness over his country and more importantly, his family.

 

Callum’s mind grew tired, all he wanted to do was collapse and rest his body on the cold floor.

 

As a cloud set in his mind he got on his knees, he was too tired to walk anymore. Small beads of clear liquid started to form outside his eyes.

 

“A… Ahhhhhh!!!”

 

Tears flowed as he slowly realized that he was alone in these deary mirrored hallways with low light-yellow lights.

 

His family was gone.

 

Was his cousin also dead? A vivid scene went through his mind of Arthur being killed, the True King of Britain dying at the hands of a monster.

 

“...Quiet down…”

 

He recognized that voice anywhere, that rough tone…

 

“Declan!?”

 

Finding the strength, he walked slowly to the corner to find the tough looking man bleeding out from a wound in his stomach.

 

He was the first Knight to leave the group and faced a man with multiple personalities.

 

“Yes you brat, quiet down… At least let me die peacefully without your complaints twisting in the insides of my ears… just this once…” His voice softened, he was dying.

 

“Declan! Wake up, don’t go to sleep! I’ll administer first aid, please…”

 

Callum tried his best, but with a hole in his stomach that tore all the way through the other side of Declan’s body, he had no chance in the first place. It was a hopeless endeavor that would lead only to a single end, death.

 

“...I managed to take that two-faced bastard down with me at the very latest… Though I wonder… will Britain really leave this phase behind… or will it never truly leave…?”

 

The murmurs were like those of a senile old man.

 

Blood covered Callum’s hand and his vision shook as he could do nothing and watch his mentor die without a chance to survive.

 

“...I can see them… the original… Knights… Arthur…? Is that… you?”

 

Declan’s eyes were hazy yet his arms reached out to imaginary figures in front of him, his arms reached out like he was awaiting a hug.

 

“N-No… Please…”

 

Declan’s arms slowly made their ways to his sides, his neck lost its power and leaned on his shoulder.

 

He was dead.

 

Callum’s body shivered as tears dropped from his eyes.

 

If he had ended the fight, could he have saved Declan? Such thoughts filled his mind as tears kept flowing from his eyes.

 

‘Others… the others… I have to find them…!’

 

Declan was proof that the others may still be fighting or worse, he had to find them.

 

Callum pushed back all the emotions, all the stress and body fatigue and started walking.

 

Click-

 

Clack…

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

“...So you’re the peasant Knight I am going to fight. You don’t seem very impressive aside from your face, quite an ugly one at that.” ‘I’ smiled.

 

The room around them was made from mirrors, the room was large enough but it was still tight, whether it would hold the immense power of these two was up for question.

 

‘What an ugly personality…’ Declan stated in his mind, his hand pulled out his sword.

 

“I have an ugly mug, eh? I could say the same to you as well, your different personalities must have made your face look like that…” Declan’s scar ridden face gave a provoking smile at the man in front of him.

 

With his sword drawn, Declan prepared for the upcoming fight.

 

‘I’’s fingers moved in strange ways that made them pop, he snarled like a feral animal at Declan.

 

~~~~

 

Hello.

 

So my schedule is back like I said it was.

 

How was the death scene? I hope it wasn’t exactly bad or unbearable to read. This chapter was actually supposed to be out on Thursday but I had a test to study for and on Friday I had some fun that had less time to finish.

 

Anyways, the chapter is just Declan’s fight with ‘I’ and his already seen death.

 

Don’t exactly know when the next chapter will be out, either tomorrow, today or the day after. Who knows?

 

Yes, this chapter is shorter than usual but the word count is the same.