The tension in the air was palpable as Dave stood across from the mysterious man, his daggers still slick with Raknor's blood. The newcomer exuded an aura so heavy, it seemed to warp the very space around him. His cold, calculating eyes locked onto Dave as he casually began to circle him.
"So," the man began, his voice smooth but filled with menace, "was it you who unleashed that powerful skill earlier? The one that brought the entire battlefield to a halt?"
Dave remained silent, his eyes sharp as he watched the man's every movement. His body, still fatigued from the battle with Raknor, felt heavier than usual, but his instincts were on high alert.
The enemy's smile widened as he continued, seemingly unfazed by Dave's lack of response. "I knew it. That kind of power—raw, untamed, and utterly destructive—could only belong to someone who loves fighting as much as I do." He stopped pacing, standing tall in front of Dave, his grin growing more predatory. "You're a freak of fighting, just like me."
For the briefest moment, Dave's lips curled into a faint smile. He couldn't deny the rush of exhilaration he felt every time he fought. The thrill of being on the edge, the surge of power when pushing himself beyond his limits—it was addictive. But he quickly wiped the smile from his face, unwilling to give the enemy any satisfaction.
The man chuckled softly. "I can see it, Dave. The fight excites you. It's written all over your face, even if you try to hide it." He tilted his head, his expression one of amusement. "What's your name, anyway? I like to know the name of the people I crush."
Dave stared back at him, the weight of his daggers resting comfortably in his hands. "My name's Dave."
The enemy's eyes gleamed. "Dave, huh? Simple, strong. I like it." He took a step back, spreading his arms wide as if to welcome the fight that was about to begin. "I am Arklor, known by many names, but most call me the Tyrant Slayer."
Dave remained stoic, though the name stirred something within him. Arklor's reputation was infamous, a ruthless fighter who had never lost a battle. His mere presence in the arena was enough to make others flee, but Dave had no intention of running.
Arklor's smile turned dark. "That move you pulled earlier—the one with the 10,000 daggers—was impressive. But if that's your best, you'll never stand a chance against me." He cracked his knuckles, his muscles flexing beneath his armor. "I hope you have more tricks up your sleeve, because if not, this fight will be over before it even begins."
Dave's grip on his daggers tightened, his mind racing. He knew Arklor wasn't bluffing. The aura the man emitted was oppressive, unlike anything Dave had encountered before. Yet, despite the danger, the excitement in Dave's veins only grew. This was what he lived for.
"I don't need tricks," Dave replied, his voice low but filled with determination. "I'll win because I always find a way."
Arklor's eyes lit up with anticipation. "Good. Then let's see how you handle this."
In an instant, Arklor lunged forward, faster than anything Dave had expected. Dave barely had time to react, throwing himself to the side just as Arklor's fist came crashing down, leaving a massive crater where Dave had stood. The shockwave from the impact rippled across the battlefield, sending dust and debris flying in all directions.
Dave rolled to his feet, his heart pounding. 'He's faster than I thought.' He clenched his jaw, his instincts screaming at him to stay on the defensive, at least for now. Arklor wasn't just strong—he was a seasoned fighter, calculating and relentless.
Without wasting a second, Arklor was on him again, swinging with a brutal force that threatened to level everything around them. Dave dodged, barely managing to avoid the strikes as the ground shattered under each blow. Sweat dripped down his face as he kept moving, teleporting short distances to gain breathing room, but Arklor was relentless.
"Is dodging all you can do?" Arklor taunted, his voice carrying over the chaos. "Come on, Dave, show me what you're made of!"
Dave's eyes flickered with a mix of frustration and excitement. Arklor was fast, faster than Raknor had ever been, and his attacks were precise. Each time Dave dodged, he could feel the intensity of Arklor's strikes—the sheer power behind them was enough to crush a mountain.
'I can't keep this up forever,' Dave thought, gritting his teeth. 'I need to find an opening, something to turn this around.'
But Arklor gave him no time to think. He moved like a whirlwind, closing the distance in the blink of an eye. Dave narrowly avoided another blow, the force of it sending him skidding across the battlefield.
"You're quick, but you won't be able to dodge forever," Arklor said with a smirk.
As the dust settled, Dave found himself panting, his body on edge. He had been dodging blow after blow, barely managing to stay in the fight. But Arklor's words rang true—he needed something more.