As the battle unfolded, Lucas turned his attention towards Roy. With a predatory glint in his eyes, Lucas darted towards the knight with lightning speed, his movements fluid and precise.
Roy, ever the composed fighter, met Lucas's charge with unwavering focus. As Lucas closed the distance between them in a blur of motion, Roy shifted into a defensive stance, ready to meet the onslaught head-on.
With a series of swift strikes, Lucas tested Roy's defenses, his sword flashing through the air with deadly intent. But Roy, a master of swordplay, parried each blow with skillful precision, his movements economical yet effective.
Sensing an opening, Lucas feinted to one side before launching a ferocious overhead strike aimed at Roy's exposed flank. But Roy, quick to react, sidestepped the attack with practiced ease, his instincts honed from years of combat experience.
Undeterred by Roy's stalwart defense, Lucas continued his relentless assault, his movements a blur of calculated aggression. But amidst his flurry of strikes, Lucas made a critical error—he forgot this was not a one on one
With a swift and calculated throw, I launched a dagger towards Lucas's back, the blade slicing through the air with deadly precision. The sound of metal cutting through space caught Lucas's attention, and in a split second, he turned to face the impending threat.
Realization dawned on Lucas as he recognized his grave mistake. Caught between the dual attack , he had to act fast. With lightning reflexes, Lucas raised his sword to parry Roy's incoming blow, while simultaneously extending his hand to intercept my dagger.
The dagger struck true, burying itself into Lucas's palm with a sickening thud. Yet, even in the face of excruciating pain, Lucas managed to deflect the majority of the damage, his quick thinking and reflexes saving him from a potentially fatal wound.
With a grimace of pain, Lucas staggered backward with a sprint . ,
With a grunt of pain, Lucas ripped the dagger from his palm, the metallic clatter echoing through the tense silence of the battlefield. His face contorted in agony, yet his eyes burned with a fierce resolve as he turned to face me, hatred and anger seething in his gaze.
As Lucas glared at me with venomous fury, I met his gaze with a defiant smirk, spitting on the ground in contempt. The satisfaction in my expression mirrored the disdain I felt for my adversary, a silent challenge exchanged between us amidst the chaos of battle. In that moment, the animosity between us crackled like electricity in the air, fueling the intensity of our conflict with each passing second, and the battle resumed....
Roy's Pov:
My breath comes in ragged gasps as I fight to keep my footing, the weight of exhaustion pressing down upon me like a suffocating blanket. Each swing of my sword feels heavier than the last, my muscles protesting with every movement. The battle has raged on for what feels like an eternity.
I steal a glance at the young master, and my heart sinks at the sight of our battered and bloodied forms. Despite our valiant efforts, we are no closer to victory than when we first clashed with Lucas. Cuts mar our skin, our armor dented and tarnished from the unrelenting barrage of attacks. Yet, for all our skill and determination, we remain locked in a deadly stalemate, unable to gain the upper hand against our formidable opponent.
I know that we are facing an uphill battle, our chances of emerging victorious growing slimmer with each passing moment. But even in the face of such adversity, I refuse to surrender to despair.It did not matter if I died or lived as long as my mission was accomplished my son would still inherit my position , all that it mattered was that the young master lived.
That was all that mattered right now....
Favian pov:
Roy's steady breath echoed in the tense silence that hung heavy in the air, his chest rising and falling in a rhythmic pattern. With deliberate intent, he released his grip on his sword, the weapon clattering to the ground with a metallic clang.
Caught off guard, I turned to him with a furrowed brow, confusion etched on my features. Before I could voice my inquiry, Roy met my gaze with a look of unwavering determination, his eyes radiating a focused intensity that spoke volumes of his resolve.
In that moment, I understood, Roy had weighed the odds, assessed the risks, and made a bold choice with unwavering confidence. There was no need for words; his actions spoke louder than any explanation could. With a silent nod of acknowledgment, I returned his gaze.
As Lucas's keen eyes scanned the battlefield, they caught sight of Roy's sword lying abandoned on the ground. For a fleeting moment, confusion flickered across Lucas's face, his mind struggling to comprehend Roy's seemingly reckless decision.
But in that split second, instinct took over. With a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins, Lucas seized upon the opening, his muscles coiling like a tightly wound spring as he sprinted towards Roy with ferocious speed. Every stride propelled him forward with purpose, his gaze locked onto the unarmed knight with predatory focus.
In that moment, all hesitation vanished, replaced by a singular drive to exploit Roy's vulnerability and secure victory. With each passing heartbeat, the distance between them closed, until finally, Lucas stood before Roy, poised to strike with lethal precision.
As Lucas's sword arced through the air, propelled by the force of his sprint, Roy's instincts kicked into overdrive. With lightning reflexes, he raised his arm in a desperate attempt to intercept the deadly blade, the steel of his armor ringing out as it clashed against the razor-sharp edge.
Despite Roy's valiant effort, the sheer strength behind Lucas's strike proved overwhelming. The blade bit through the layers of armor with a sickening crunch, slicing through flesh and muscle until it met bone. Agonizing pain shot through Roy's arm, his cry of anguish echoing across the battlefield as blood welled from the grievous wound.
But even in the throes of agony, Roy refused to yield. With a primal roar, fueled by sheer determination and adrenaline, he surged forward, his other hand closing around Lucas's throat with a vice-like grip. With every ounce of his remaining strength, Roy wrestled Lucas to a halt, his fingers digging into the flesh of the younger man's neck as he fought to maintain his hold.
With a savage desperation, Lucas's free hand darted to his side, swiftly unsheathing a dagger concealed within his belt. In a cruel twist of fate, the blade found its mark in Roy's exposed neck, piercing through flesh and sinew with a sickening squelch.
Roy's guttural cry was choked off into a gurgling rasp as blood surged from the mortal wound, staining his armor crimson and pooling beneath him.
Despite the agony that coursed through his veins and the darkness that threatened to claim him, Roy's grip remained steadfast, his fingers clenching around Lucas's throat with an iron resolve.
Locking eyes with his assailant, Roy's gaze burned with a fierce defiance. Though weakened and battered, Roy refused to surrender to the inevitability of his fate, his spirit unbroken even in the face of death's cold embrace.
In the end he was truly the best knight I could ask for....
'' Soul projection: 'Dyonisian Decree' ''