Suddenly, with a flash of malice, the figure initiated the duel, attempting to land a swift and deadly first strike. Adrenaline surged through Thaddeus as he grasped the immediate need to confront the figure head-on. Reacting with instinctive agility, he deftly dodged and rolled, narrowly evading the lethal onslaught that sought to secure a quick victory. The air crackled with tension as the dance of blades and roots began, each movement a precarious step in the high-stakes gamble for survival.
*THUD! THUD!* The figure's sword struck the ground with thunderous force as Thaddeus desperately rolls away, each evasion a close call that grazed the edge of danger. "You're more resilient than you look," the figure sneered, his voice edged with disdain. Undeterred, Thaddeus responded with a quick retort, "Appearances can be deceiving."
As the clash ensued, Thaddeus became a whirlwind of evasion, his movements a struggle for survival. He rolled lithely, dodging lethal strikes that would otherwise spell his demise. Each nimble maneuver was a calculated effort to expose the slightest vulnerability in the figure's guard. "You can't run forever," the figure taunted, thrusting his sword forward with menacing precision.
*BOOM!* The dark roots crashed against the ground, splintering the concrete as they sought their elusive target. Thaddeus, fueled by a mix of desperation and determination, pressed on. However, his injuries, a growing hindrance, slowed him down with every passing second. The terrain, marred by the relentless assault of the dark roots, became an obstacle in itself, hindering his ability to maneuver.
Thaddeus, in a desperate bid for an advantage, channeled magic into his serpent-like eyes, attempting to discern weaknesses in his opponent's defenses.
The duel unfolded amidst the relentless assault of the figure's sword and the sinister pursuit of the dark roots. Thaddeus's stamina waned, and the wound inflicted earlier began to impede his agility. That was when he discerned a subtle weakness in the figure's defense—a split-second delay in the retraction of his strikes. The figure, despite his formidable skill, momentarily exposes himself after each powerful swing, creating a narrow window of opportunity for exploitation. It's a minuscule vulnerability, but in the swift dance of combat, every fraction of a second counts.
Realizing the need for a decisive move, he summoned magic to his palms, unleashing a layer of noxious gas that momentarily cloaked his hands. Pushing beyond his limits, he wove an illusion of himself stumbling while casting invisibility on himself, hoping to create an opening.
The figure fell for the ruse, launching the dark roots at the illusion. *BANG!* Dust clouds billowed as the roots struck, and the figure, with anticipation, swung his sword at the illusion's location. But in that critical moment, Thaddeus materialized beside the figure, his hand reaching for the visage.
At that moment, a glint of light reflected off the figure's eyes, revealing a twisted grin. "Found you," he uttered, swiftly countering Thaddeus. With a calculated move, the figure hooks his hand around Thaddeus's outstretched arm, pulling and twisting in a single fluid motion.
A sharp and sickening pop reverberated through the air as Thaddeus' shoulder dislocates. The sound echoed through the clash of battle, where a sharp and harrowing sound of pain then quickly followed.
Thaddeus, now defenseless, crumples to the ground in excruciating pain. The figure's mastery of combat is evident as he stood over Thaddeus, his face a cold mask of triumph. His hood falls back, revealing a face marked by aristocratic features and an air air of disdain.
As Thaddeus looked up, he beheld not only the face of his adversary but also the polished armor beneath his coat. The figure's armor bore a unique embellishment that unmistakably marked him as the honorary knight of the Blackwood family. A subtle but distinctive feature adorned the breastplate—a finely crafted insignia inlaid with onyx, displaying the intertwined initials "B" and "W" surrounded by intricate scrollwork. This emblem, meticulously etched in silver against the ebony background, served as a symbol of his allegiance to the noble house.
Thaddeus: "Blackwood…"
Vincent: "Vincent Blackwood. Pity you won't get to remember the name."
With a swift motion, he raised his sword high, poised to deliver the final, decisive blow.