The clash between Ethan and Darion was like watching a raging storm crash against an immovable mountain. Ethan's Rage gave him strength, speed, and ferocity, but Darion matched him effortlessly. Each swing of Darion's crackling warhammer sent shockwaves through the air, forcing Ethan to dodge or block with desperate precision.
Ethan charged, his sword glowing faintly from the power coursing through his veins. "You won't win!" he roared, slashing at Darion's chest.
Darion didn't flinch. With a single sweep of his hammer, he knocked Ethan's blade aside, the impact reverberating through Ethan's arms.
"You're strong for a boy," Darion said, his voice dripping with mockery, "but strength alone won't save you."
With a quick movement, Darion's hammer collided with Ethan's side, sending him sprawling across the ground. Ethan coughed, struggling to get up, but Darion was already towering over him.
The Revelation of the Demonic Fruit
Darion pulled a small, glowing fruit from his satchel. Its dark purple surface shimmered with veins of black, pulsing faintly like a beating heart.
"You've heard of the Demonic Fruit, haven't you?" Darion said, holding it up. "A single bite grants immense power—power beyond your wildest imagination. That's why I'm unstoppable, boy. I ate one myself."
Ethan's eyes widened as he struggled to his knees. "The Demonic Fruit? I thought that it was a myth..."
Darion chuckled darkly. "Is it? Look at me, and tell me it's a myth." He extended the fruit toward Ethan. "You've fought well, boy. Better than most. Join me, and this fruit is yours. Together, we could conquer this world."
Ethan's Temptation
Ethan stared at the fruit, his mind swirling with doubt and frustration. His strength wasn't enough. His rage wasn't enough. No matter how hard he tried, Darion was stronger—unbeatable.
The voices in his head whispered seductively.
Take it. Imagine the power. You could protect Alex, Agatha, everyone. Just take the fruit.
Darion smirked, sensing the hesitation. "You're not like them. You're better. You don't need Agatha's rules or the guild holding you back. With this power, you'd surpass them all."
Ethan's trembling hand reached for the fruit.
Alex's Intervention
Out of nowhere, Alex appeared, his hand slapping the fruit away from Ethan's grasp. The impact snapped Ethan out of his daze, and he looked up, stunned, as Alex glared down at him.
"What the hell are you doing?" Alex barked, his voice filled with fury.
"Alex, I—" Ethan stammered, but Alex cut him off.
"You're seriously going to take that crap?!" Alex shouted, grabbing Ethan by the collar and shaking him. "You're better than this! Watch me, you pussy Watch me beat this guy without any damn fruit!"
Ethan blinked, momentarily speechless.
Alex stepped forward, positioning himself between Ethan and Darion. Despite his exhaustion and the clear difference in strength, Alex's resolve was unwavering. He wiped blood from the corner of his mouth and cracked his knuckles.
"You want someone to fight, Darion?" Alex said, his voice cold and steady. "Fight me."
Darion tilted his head, amused. "You've got guts, kid, I'll give you that. But guts alone won't save you."
"Maybe not," Alex replied, raising his sword. "But I'll show you what real strength looks like—strength that doesn't come from shortcuts or dark magic."
Ethan watched in awe as Alex faced the towering foe, his words igniting a spark of determination in Ethan's chest. The fruit wasn't the answer. It was a crutch, and Alex had reminded him that true power came from within.
"Let's do this," Alex muttered to himself, stepping into the fight.
Alex squared off against Darion, sweat dripping down his face as exhaustion weighed heavily on him. The battle was dragging on, and each clash of their weapons sent painful vibrations through his body. Darion fought with an unnerving precision, every swing of his hammer carrying devastating power.
"You've lasted longer than I expected," Darion sneered, his dark eyes glowing faintly. "But it's time to end this."
Alex panted, struggling to keep his sword steady. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest. He couldn't keep up—Darion's brute strength and cunning were overwhelming.
Darion smirked, and with a sharp gesture, his hammer pulsed with dark energy. He sent a shockwave that shattered the ground, forcing Alex to leap back. But he wasn't fast enough; the edge of the blast caught him, sending him sprawling.
"Stay down, boy," Darion growled, advancing. "You can't win."
The Decision
Alex pushed himself up, his vision swimming. He knew he had no chance of winning this fight as he was. His body wasn't ready, and Darion's arsenal of tricks had him constantly on the back foot.
He gritted his teeth, his mind racing. This isn't working. But I have something he doesn't. Something I've never used in a battle like this before.
Alex looked up at Darion, determination flashing in his eyes. He gripped his sword tightly and whispered under his breath, "Temporalis."
"Time selected:- One hour thirty minutes in the past"
In an instant, the world around him blurred, colors swirling together as time rewound itself. The pain in his body vanished, replaced by the fresh energy he had felt exactly one hour ago.
Rewriting the Battle
Alex stood in the same place as before, but now, he knew. He had seen Darion's tricks, experienced his moves, and understood his patterns. This time, he would not falter.
When Darion swung his hammer, Alex sidestepped with perfect timing, driving his sword toward Darion's ribs. Darion blocked it, but his expression twisted in surprise.
"What—?" Darion growled. "How did you know?"
Alex smirked, his confidence growing with each passing moment. "You're not as unpredictable as you think."
Darion unleashed the same shockwave as before, but Alex was already moving, leaping clear of the blast and closing the distance before Darion could react. His sword slashed through the air, leaving a shallow cut on Darion's shoulder.
Darion snarled, his composure beginning to crack. "How are you doing this?!"
Alex didn't answer, his focus unshakable. He dodged and countered with precision, evading Darion's dark magic attacks as if he'd rehearsed them a hundred times.
Ethan's Perspective
From the sidelines, Ethan watched the fight in disbelief. Alex, who had been struggling only moments ago, was now dominating the battlefield. He moved like a seasoned warrior, predicting Darion's every move and exploiting every weakness.
Ethan clenched his fists, frustration and shame bubbling inside him. I couldn't even put up a real fight, he thought. And now Alex is handling this alone, like I'm not even needed.
The words Darion had spoken earlier echoed in his mind. You could be strong. Stronger than all of them.
Ethan looked down at his hands, trembling slightly. His power, Rage, had failed him. He had given it everything he had, and it wasn't enough. And now Alex was out there, risking his life while Ethan stood on the sidelines, useless.
Darion's Desperation
"You're toying with me!" Darion roared, swinging his hammer in a wide arc. The weapon crackled with energy, but Alex ducked under it effortlessly.
"Hardly," Alex replied, his voice cold. "I'm just done playing your game."
Darion's frustration boiled over. He slammed the ground, unleashing a massive shockwave infused with dark energy. The ground cracked and heaved, but Alex danced around the destruction, his movements fluid and deliberate.
Darion's eyes widened in disbelief. "How… how is this possible?!"
Alex stepped forward, his blade gleaming in the dim light. "You've already lost," he said firmly. "You just don't know it yet."
Darion gritted his teeth, backing away slightly as fear began to creep into his expression. For the first time, he felt the tides of battle slipping away from him.
Ethan watched as Alex closed in on Darion, his heart heavy with guilt. He had let his doubts and insecurities cloud his judgment. He had almost betrayed everything they stood for.
No more, Ethan thought, his jaw tightening. I won't let Alex carry this burden alone. I'll get stronger—stronger than I've ever been. Next time, I'll be the one standing beside him, not behind.
As the fight raged on, Ethan's resolve solidified, the spark of a newfound determination igniting within him.
The sun began its slow descent, painting the village in hues of orange and gold. The air was still heavy with the tension from the earlier battle, but a sense of calm had begun to seep back into the streets. The villagers, though shaken, were alive—and they owed that to Alex, Ethan, and their now-controversial addition, Darion.
A Warm Reception
As Alex, Ethan, and Darion walked back into the village, they were greeted by the curious and grateful faces of the townsfolk. Whispers of their bravery had already spread like wildfire.
"Thank you!" an elderly man called out, his voice quivering with emotion. "You saved us!"
A woman holding a small child stepped forward, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I thought we were all doomed when those mercenaries attacked. Thank you so much for protecting us."
The crowd around them began to grow, villagers stepping forward with offerings of food, fresh produce, and baked goods.
"Here, take this," a young boy said, holding out a basket filled with warm bread. "It's not much, but it's the least we can do!"
Alex smiled, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. He crouched down to the boy's level, taking the basket gently. "Thank you. This means a lot."
The Innkeeper's Gesture
As they made their way to the inn, the innkeeper himself stood waiting for them at the door. A stout man with a booming voice and a heart of gold, he had always been kind to travelers, but this time, his gratitude overflowed.
"You lads have done more for this village in a single day than most could in a lifetime," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "This inn is yours from now on. Free of charge. Come and go as you please."
Ethan blinked in surprise. "Wait—are you serious? We can't just—"
The innkeeper raised a hand, cutting him off. "You can and you will. It's the least I can do. You risked your lives for us. Now, come on inside and rest. You look like you've been through hell."
Alex exchanged a glance with Ethan, his gratitude evident. "Thank you," he said simply.
The Elephant in the Room
As they entered the inn, Darion lingered at the doorway, unsure of his place in this new dynamic. The villagers had eyed him warily during their walk back, and he could feel the weight of their mistrust bearing down on him.
The innkeeper, catching sight of Darion, frowned slightly. "And what about him?" he asked, his voice tinged with suspicion.
Alex stepped forward, his tone firm. "He's with us now. He surrendered, and he's agreed to follow my orders."
Ethan added, crossing his arms, "We're keeping an eye on him. He's not getting a free pass, but he's not a threat to the village anymore."
The innkeeper hesitated, his eyes narrowing as he studied Darion. Finally, he sighed. "If you trust him, then I'll trust your judgment. But if he steps out of line…"
"He won't," Alex said confidently, glancing at Darion. "Right?"
Darion nodded quickly, his posture submissive. "I swear it. I'm here to learn, not to cause trouble."
A Feast of Gratitude
That evening, the villagers gathered in the town square to celebrate their survival. Tables were set up, laden with food and drink, and the mood was one of cautious optimism.
Ethan, ever the social butterfly, mingled with the crowd, accepting praises and laughing at exaggerated retellings of their battle. Alex, on the other hand, sat quietly at one of the tables, savoring the moment of peace.
Darion kept to himself, staying close to Alex but avoiding direct interaction with the villagers. Despite his earlier life as a fearsome mercenary, he looked almost shy in the face of such genuine gratitude.
"You should eat," Alex said, nudging a plate toward him. "You'll need your strength if you're serious about this whole 'student' thing."
Darion hesitated before taking the plate. "Thanks," he muttered, his voice uncharacteristically soft.
A Flicker of Trust
As the night wore on, the villagers began to relax, their initial reluctance toward Darion easing as they saw him sitting quietly, no longer a threat. A few even approached him cautiously, asking questions about his decision to join Alex.
"I was wrong," Darion admitted simply. "I thought power was everything, but Alex showed me that strength comes from more than brute force."
His honesty, combined with his subdued demeanor, began to win over some of the villagers, though there were still plenty of skeptical eyes watching him.
A Quiet Resolve
As the celebration wound down, Alex and Ethan finally retreated to their room at the inn. The warm glow of lanterns illuminated their weary faces as they settled in for the night.
"You think this'll work?" Ethan asked, breaking the silence. "Taking Darion in, I mean."
Alex sighed, leaning back against the wall. "I don't know. But we've got bigger things to worry about right now. If he proves himself, great. If not… we'll deal with it."
Ethan nodded, though his expression remained uncertain. "Well, at least we've got a free inn out of this mess," he said with a grin.
Alex chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Small victories, Ethan. Small victories."