As he closed in, the distressing sight unfolded before his eyes. Two girls, one older and the other younger, were cornered by a man dressed in dirty clothes and masked, a sinister figure with a deadly intent.
Without hesitation, the older girl bravely pushed the younger one away, shielding her from the assailant's attack. Malcom's heart sank as he witnessed the horror—the man ruthlessly stabbed the older girl, and blood began to ooze from her wound.
With adrenaline coursing through his veins, Malcom sprinted toward the chilling scene before him. His legs moved with a sense of urgency, knowing that he was heading not to a danger zone but a killer's zone. Despite the fear and rage building within him, he remained resolute in his mission—to save the remaining girl and seek help for the wounded one.
The night air was thick with tension as the killer's sword dripped with the blood of his unfortunate victim. With a wicked grin, he set his sights on the remaining girl, taunting her with sinister words.
"Mu ha ha! Aren't you sad for your other friend?" he jeered, reveling in the terror he instilled. "She's dead now. Weren't you two best of friends? Won't you accompany her to her next destination?"
The young girl trembled in fear as the killer raised his sword, preparing to strike her down. In that perilous moment, Malcom's instincts took over. With a heart full of courage, he leaped into action, putting himself between the girl and the ruthless assailant.
With a swift and daring move, Malcom grabbed the girl and rolled away from the killer's deadly strike. His arm bore the mark of the assailant's blade, but he didn't let the pain deter him. His focus was on protecting the innocent and confronting evil head-on.
As he landed on the ground, he cradled the frightened girl in his arms, his heart filled with compassion and determination. "Are you hurt?" he asked gently, trying to comfort her.
The girl was too overwhelmed with fear to respond, but Malcom's presence seemed to offer a glimmer of hope in the darkness. He smiled reassuringly and said, "It's okay, I'm here. You're safe now."
As the girl clung to him, seeking solace in his embrace, Malcom knew he had to be strong for her. Despite the danger that still lurked nearby, he remained resolute in his commitment to protect her.
His heart raced with adrenaline as he assessed the situation. The killer stood a short distance away, his eyes fixed on his prey with malice. But Malcom was undeterred; he couldn't let fear dictate his actions.
The killer's grin widened, finding amusement in the young boy's bravery. "Ah, another hero emerges!" he sneered. "I checked everywhere to ensure no one would interfere, but it seems fate has different plans."
Malcom's heart pounded in his chest, and fear threatened to engulf him, but he knew he couldn't back down. The safety of the innocent was at stake, and he was their only hope.
The killer's laughter grew louder, the sound echoing eerily through the night. "You're a fool to challenge me," he said, tauntingly licking the blood from his sword. "I'll enjoy watching you squirm and beg for mercy."
As Malcom faced the menacing killer, he couldn't ignore the chill that ran down his spine. He knew he was in the presence of a full-fledged murderer, a man who showed no remorse for his heinous actions. Fear gnawed at his heart, but he refused to let it consume him.
Summoning all the courage he could muster, Malcom spoke with a firm voice, "If you think you're going to kill me, you better wake up to reality, because you're just dreaming."
The killer's sinister grin widened as he listened to the young boy's bold words. "Oh, you have a big mouth for a kid," he sneered, finding amusement in Malcom's defiance. "Do you want me to shut you up? I'd love to see you beg for mercy when you're on the doorstep of death."
The killer's laughter echoed through the night, a cruel symphony of malevolence. But Malcom stood his ground, undeterred by the killer's threats. He knew he couldn't let fear silence him, not when innocent lives were at stake
With the safety of the young girl and her friend in mind, Malcom made a split-second decision. He knew that their lives depended on their swift escape, so he urged the girl to take her friend and run to safety.
The girl didn't hesitate, trusting in the brave young swordsman.She ran with all her might with her friend in her arms, seeking refuge from the darkness that pursued them. As she dashed away, her fear pushed her to move faster, hoping to outrun the evil that lurked behind them.
But the killer was relentless. His sinister laughter echoed through the night as he sprinted after the fleeing girls. His determination to claim another victim was evident in every stride he took.
Meanwhile, Malcom faced his own peril as he stood firm against the charging killer. He knew that he had to act quickly to prevent the murderer from catching up to the girls.
Drawing his sword with lightning speed, Malcom met the killer head-on. Their blades clashed with a resounding clang, a testament to the strength and skill of both combatants.
As the swords collided, the force of their clash reverberated through the night. Malcom's heart raced, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He could feel the weight of the fight on his shoulders, knowing that the fate of the innocent rested on his ability to hold off the relentless killer.
Malcom caught glimpses of the fleeing girls in the distance. Their safety remained his top priority, and he knew he couldn't let the killer get past him.
As their swords clashed and their strength intertwined, Malcom found himself facing an opponent unlike any he had encountered before. The killer, exuded raw power and an aura of darkness that sent shivers down Malcom's spine.
Struggling to maintain his ground against the killer's overpowering strength, Malcom refused to back down. With unwavering determination, he met the killer's menacing gaze and boldly declared, "Where do you think you're going? Take on someone your own size. I am your opponent."
The killer's laughter filled the air, a chilling sound that only fueled Malcom's resolve. He knew that he was facing a formidable foe, but he refused to let fear consume him. Instead, he drew strength from his training, from the wisdom of Lord Minato, and from the knowledge that he was fighting not just for himself, but for the innocent lives that depended on his courage.
In the face of the killer's relentless assault, Malcom shouted to the girl, urging her to keep running and not to look back. He knew that her safety was paramount, and he was willing to put himself in harm's way to ensure her escape.
But the killer took pleasure in taunting his opponent, boasting, "Do you know who I am? I am the warrior killer, the one who feeds on warriors.I am the immortal, Nightmare. Do you know why I am called that name?" His laughter echoed through the night, sending chills down Malcom's spine.
Despite the perilous situation, Malcom refused to be swayed by Nightmare's taunts. He knew that words were just a distraction, and he had to stay focused on the battle at hand.
With a surge of strength, Nightmare pushed Malcom off balance, sending him rolling to the ground. But Malcom was determined to stand his ground, refusing to let his guard down even for a moment
He quickly regained his footing, the determination in his eyes unwavering.
As he faced the embodiment of darkness before him, Malcom's heart was filled with a mix of fear and courage. He knew that this was a battle for more than just his life—it was a battle against evil itself.
As Nightmare taunted Malcom with a sinister welcome to hell, the atmosphere intensified with an aura of impending doom. The moonlight cast eerie shadows upon the battlefield, heightening the tension between the two combatants.
With a burst of speed, Nightmare lunged at Malcom, his sword aimed with deadly precision. In response, Malcom's reflexes kicked into overdrive, and he managed to block Nightmare's initial attack just in time.
Despite his swift reaction, Malcom could feel the overwhelming strength behind Nightmare's strike. The force threatened to overpower him, and he knew that he couldn't solely rely on brute strength to counter such a formidable opponent.
Nightmare sensed Malcom's momentary weakness and exploited it, launching a barrage of rapid strikes in quick succession. The onslaught aimed to overwhelm Malcom, testing his endurance and determination.
Malcom's mind raced as he realized the urgency of the situation. He knew that he couldn't match Nightmare's strength head-on, but he also understood that his survival depended on finding a way to outmaneuver his adversary.
Dancing on the edge of danger, Malcom gracefully dodged Nightmare's onslaught, his feet moving like whispers against the ground.
A smirk crossed Malcom's face, and his mind worked swiftly, assessing his opponent's strengths and weaknesses. He knew that while Nightmare possessed formidable strength and speed, there was a chink in his armor that he could exploit to gain an advantage.
Malcom's keen observation revealed that Nightmare's large sword, while powerful, also posed a challenge for him. The weight and size of the weapon slowed down Nightmare's movements slightly when he launches his attacks.
With this realization, Malcom saw an opportunity. He knew that his own speed and agility could be his greatest assets in this fight even though they weren't better. By focusing on his footwork and maintaining complete concentration, he could outmaneuver the powerful strikes of Nightmare's large sword
Malcom let's his guard down intentionally leaving himself unguarded.Nightmare rushes in as fast as he can trying to use his strength as an advantage due to he knowing Malcom couldn't block his strength.Nightmare jumped in trying to strike at Malcom with all his strength at that split second as he had Malcom where he wanted him Nightmare drew his sword and striked with all his strength at that moment Malcom smirked and with a 360 turn Malcom sliced Nightmares back with his Katana with blood oozing out of Nightmares back.Malcom seeing this knew he had the upper hand now and he had to end it now before Nightmare can.
With steely determination, Malcom gripped his sword tightly, his eyes fixed on Nightmare. He knew that this battle was not just about defeating an opponent; it was about putting an end to the terror that Nightmare had brought upon the innocent.
As Nightmare lunged forward, his rage evident in his strikes, Malcom remained calm and focused. He had honed his reflexes and footwork throughout the battle, and now he moved with the grace of a seasoned warrior.
With each attack, Nightmare found himself perplexed and frustrated as Malcom effortlessly dodged his strikes. It was as if Malcom could see every move before it happened, anticipating Nightmare's every move with uncanny precision.
As the battle continued, Malcom's blade danced through the air, leaving a trail of slashes on Nightmare's body. With each slice, Nightmare's strength waned, and he began to succumb to the pain and loss of blood.
Nightmare's once formidable strikes became feeble attempts to fend off Malcom's relentless assault. The tables had turned, and now Nightmare found himself at the mercy of the very person he had intended to destroy.
As Malcom closed in on Nightmare, he didn't gloat or show any signs of malice. Instead, he spoke with a firm but composed voice, delivering a powerful truth that echoed through the air.
He boldly asserted, "Those who inflict harm upon others will inevitably face a painful reckoning." With his sword drawn, he prepared to deliver justice to Nightmare.
However, before Malcom could strike, Nightmare swiftly countered, head-butting him with such force that blood gushed from his wound. In a relentless assault, Nightmare delivered a powerful kick that left Malcom reeling crushing into a nearby wall, his head now covered in crimson.
Despite the grievous injuries, Malcom refused to yield. Summoning every ounce of strength, he grasped his katana tightly, struggling to regain his footing. But Nightmare proved to be a formidable adversary, moving with incredible speed. He struck Malcom once more, propelling him across the ground, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.
With an iron grip on Malcom neck, Nightmare seized Malcom once again, taunting him with a chilling question, "What did you say? Do you truly believe I will meet a painful end?" His signature devilish laughter echoed through the air, "Mu ha ha ha."
Malcom's resolve remained unshaken. Through gritted teeth, he replied, "I stand by my words. Evil deeds shall not escape their consequences.
With his vision blurred and bloodied, Malcom knew that he had to find a way to turn the tables on Nightmare. As Nightmare taunted him, Malcom's mind raced, searching for a way to escape the deadly grip around his neck.
In a desperate move, Malcom noticed the open sore on Nightmare's arm, still bleeding from a previous wound. Seizing this opportunity, he used his Katana in his right hand to swiftly stab Nightmare's arm, causing Nightmare to howl in pain and momentarily loosen his grip.
Taking advantage of the sudden reprieve, Malcom used his leg to execute a skillful hurricanrana, flipping Nightmare to the ground.
Malcom struggled to catch his breath, gasping for air as he tried to regain his composure. With his head still bleeding, he took off his shirt and used it to clean his face, ensuring that the blood wouldn't obstruct his vision.
As he finished cleaning up, Malcom's gaze fell upon the spot where Nightmare had been lying, only to find it empty. Nightmare had vanished without a trace. A feeling of unease washed over him as he scanned the surroundings, searching for any sign of the malevolent entity.
Suddenly, from a concealed location, Nightmare's voice echoed through the darkness, taunting Malcom, "You think you can put an end to me, huh?" His chilling laughter reverberated in the night air, sending shivers down Malcom's spine. "I must admit, I like your spirit," Nightmare continued, "but your journey ends here."
In the aftermath of Nightmare's taunting, Malcom's senses remained heightened, and he kept a firm grip on his sword, prepared for any sudden movement. Suddenly, a can was hurled in his direction, landing closer to him. Cautious but curious, Malcom picked up the can to examine its contents.
As he held the can in his hands, smoke began to billow forth from its opening. Instantly alert, Malcom instinctively threw the can away, realizing that Nightmare was attempting to obscure his vision with the smokescreen. Within seconds, the smoke enveloped him, rendering him blind to his surroundings.
With the thick veil of smoke surrounding him, Malcom understood that Nightmare was capitalizing on this opportunity to launch an attack.
Gripping his sword with determination, Malcom embraced the challenge presented by the obscurity of the smoke. He remained steadfast, trusting his instincts to guide him through the fog of uncertainty.He listened keenly for any movement or hint of Nightmare's presence.
In a sudden and alarming turn of events, Malcom's vision began to blur, and an intense burning sensation gripped his eyes, causing him to wince in pain. The unexpected affliction left him bewildered and vulnerable, precisely at a critical moment in his battle with Nightmare.
As the seconds ticked by, the sensation intensified, and Malcom felt as though he were choking, struggling to draw a breath. Fear began to gnaw at him, knowing the gravity of the situation. Lord Minato, his mentor and protector, was nowhere to be found. The weight of his mother's life and the fate of the tournament rested heavily on his shoulders, and the thought of succumbing to the unknown assailant filled him with dread.
In his mind, questions raced like a torrential storm. How could he save his ailing mother if he couldn't even save himself? What would become of the tournament and its purpose to secure his mother's life if he were to fall here and now? The possibility of failure loomed, and the weight of those potential consequences bore down on him.
In the midst of his distress, Malcom's tears began to flow, each drop symbolizing his fears and uncertainties. The reality of his mortality stared him in the face, leaving him feeling vulnerable and lost. As he wept, a tumult of emotions swirled within him, the uncertainty of the outcome haunting him.
As Malcom teetered on the brink of consciousness, a familiar voice resonated in his mind. Lord Minato's words echoed with clarity, reminding him to never surrender, to hold onto his purpose and roots, and to let them guide him to triumph. With these words fueling his spirit, Malcom felt a surge of determination welling up inside him.
In the midst of his struggle, a vision of his mother materialized before him. Her reassuring presence filled him with a profound sense of love and support. "Try your best," her voice echoed in his ears, urging him forward.
Drawing strength from the memory of Lord Minato's guidance and his mother's unwavering belief in him, Malcom refused to be defeated. Through the haze of the smoke and the darkness that enveloped him, he reached out, groping along the ground in search of his sword, his weapon of strength and purpose.
His fingertips brushed against various objects on the ground, each touch becoming a step towards locating his sword. Despite the darkness that clouded his sight, Malcom's determination never wavered. He knew that he had to stand up, for his mother, for Lord Minato's teachings, and most importantly, for himself.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of searching, his hand grasped the hilt of his sword. A rush of relief and resolve surged through him as he clutched the weapon firmly. Using the sword as a makeshift support, he attempted to rise to his feet, his body trembling with exertion and fatigue.
With every ounce of strength, Malcom pushed himself up, the blade of his sword digging into the ground, providing him stability. Slowly, he managed to get to his feet, though he still swayed unsteadily.
With the taste of determination on his lips, Malcom's voice resounded with newfound conviction. "No, I can't die here," he declared defiantly, refusing to accept defeat. His mother's suffering weighed heavily on his heart, and he knew he couldn't let her down.
Despite the burning sensation in his eyes, Malcom's vision of his mother's face spurred him on. Clenching his left hand over his eyes to shield them from the pain, he mustered the strength to stand tall, his sword held firmly in his grasp.
"I won't let this be my end!" he exclaimed with unwavering resolve. He knew that the outcome of this battle was not just about his survival but also about his mother's hope and the promise he had made to her. He couldn't bear the thought of her grief if he were to return in anything less than perfect condition.
Drawing from the depths of his courage, Malcom vowed to conquer the malevolent Nightmare and emerge victorious. He had promised his mother that he would return, and he intended to keep that promise, no matter the cost
Summoning every ounce of determination, Malcom steadied himself on his feet, his grip on his sword unwavering. He knew that attacking Nightmare with all his might was his only chance at victory. Though the technique he needed to employ was one he had not fully mastered, it remained his sole option, especially given the loss of his vision.
With his mind focused on his training and the memories of the techniques he had learned, Malcom recognized that he had to act swiftly and decisively. He attempted the first technique, which he had mastered well, but the smoke and the burning sensation in his nose added an unexpected challenge. Despite his skills, the impairment left him momentarily shocked, fearing that this could be his ultimate demise since he couldn't even rely on his sense of smell.
In the midst of this daunting predicament, Malcom recalled a second technique—one that he had not yet perfected. However, Lord Minato's words echoed in his mind, reminding him that anyone could attempt it with just the instructions, but the toll on the wielder would be substantial. This heavy burden was not lost on Malcom, but he knew he had to seize any chance to win the fight and be reunited with his beloved mother.
With resolute determination, Malcom made his choice. He grasped his katana before him, hardening his grip.He felt a choking sensation, the air escaping him, but he knew he had to act before he succumbed to unconsciousness.
In the midst of the smoke-laden battlefield, Nightmare's malevolent taunts echoed, adding to the disorienting atmosphere. His devilish grin was hidden in the haze as he mocked Malcom, relishing in the young warrior's predicament. The voices seemed to come from all directions, making it difficult for Malcom to pinpoint his enemy's location.
Undeterred, Malcom clutched his sword tightly, drawing strength from the weapon that had become an extension of his being. In a daring move, he placed his hands on the blade's edge, calling upon it with a calm determination. "Lend me your eyesight," he implored, invoking the power of the Second Technique—Third Eye.
With his last breath, Malcom summoned the hidden strength within him, placing his trust in the ancient technique that held the key to defeating Nightmare. He had chosen this perilous path, fully aware of the consequences, and his mother's face flashed before his closed eyes, providing a surge of unwavering resolve.
In that moment, Malcom felt an inexplicable connection to his sword, as if the blade itself had become an extension of his senses. He cleared his mind, allowing the bond between him and his weapon to flourish.
As Nightmare charged forward, driven by malevolence and the desire to vanquish Malcom, the young warrior waited patiently, biding his time for the perfect opportunity. Every fiber of his being was focused on the moment that would determine the outcome of this intense confrontation.
With his eyes closed, Malcom sensed Nightmare's movements, predicting the trajectory of his adversary's attack. At the precise instant when Nightmare was upon him,the katana moved in the direction in which Nightmare was approaching from.Malcom feeling the swords movement deftly sidestepped,evading the full force of Nightmare's strike. He then unleashed his counterattack with a mighty swing, channeling every ounce of strength and emotion into the motion.
"Ahhh, Dieee!" Malcom's battle cry filled the air, a testament to the courage and determination that had brought him this far. The clash of steel reverberated through the smoke-filled battlefield, a moment frozen in time.
When the dust settled, Malcom found himself on the ground, his eyes flickering open. The swirling smoke obscured his vision, but he hoped to catch a glimpse of Nightmare defeated before him. However, his body could no longer bear the weight of the intense struggle, and he succumbed to unconsciousness.
In that moment of vulnerability, Malcom's fate lay in the hands of destiny. The battle had been fierce, a dance of strength, skill, and the willingness to risk it all for the chance to emerge victorious.
As Malcom lay on the ground, the smoke began to dissipate, revealing the aftermath of the encounter. The night seemed to hold its breath, waiting to witness the final resolution of this epic clash between light and darkness.
Though Malcom's fate hung in the balance, one thing was certain—he had fought with all his heart, unleashing the power of the Third Eye and giving everything for the love that bound him to his mother. Whether victory had been achieved or not, the true measure of a hero lay in the courage to face the darkest of challenges, and in this chapter of his journey, Malcom had proven himself a warrior of unparalleled valor.
Malcom gradually regained consciousness, the sterile white lights greeted his eyes. At first, a sense of disorientation washed over him, making him question whether he had truly survived the intense battle with Nightmare. However, as his vision began to focus, he realized that he was in the hospital, alive and breathing.
As his surroundings became clearer, he noticed a familiar figure standing by his bedside. It was Lord Minato, his mentor and guiding force throughout his arduous journey. Relief and gratitude washed over Malcom as he realized that Lord Minato was there, waiting patiently for him to awaken.
"Lord Minato..." Malcom's voice was soft, tinged with both surprise and gratitude.
As Malcom settled on his hospital bed with Lord Minato's assistance, he mustered the strength to express his heartfelt gratitude to his mentor. He acknowledged that without Lord Minato's timely intervention, Nightmare would have succeeded in taking his life. A mix of emotions overwhelmed him, and tears began to flow as he believed he had missed his one chance at victory.
However, Lord Minato's response surprised him. With a smile of pride, he assured Malcom that he had indeed emerged victorious. Lord Minato explained to Malcom that when he arrived at the scene, he found Nightmare gravely injured and near death. It was Malcom's own prowess and determination that had turned the tides in his favor. Lord Minato had merely assisted him by carrying him to safety and ensuring he received the medical attention he needed.
"You were the one who defeated Nightmare," Lord Minato said with genuine admiration. "Your courage and skill brought him to the brink of defeat."
Malcom was taken aback by this revelation. Despite his injuries and the uncertainty of the battle, he had somehow managed to overcome the darkness that had threatened to consume him. Lord Minato's words filled him with a sense of pride and validation.
However, the celebration of victory was overshadowed by the grim news that followed. Lord Minato revealed that, despite the triumph, Malcom had paid a heavy price—the loss of his right arm. The sight of his bandaged limb brought a profound sadness to Malcom's face.
The gravity of the situation sank in, and Malcom couldn't help but question his future. "Is this the end of the road for me?" he asked, his voice filled with tears and uncertainty.