The ogre attacked , its massive fist swinging down like a hammer. Mark raised his scythe to defend himself, but the force of the blow was too great. His scythe shattered, the blade shattering into a thousand pieces. Mark excitedly smiled.
'Shit, what the hell am I supposed to do now?' Mark muttered, his eyes fixated on the behemoth ogre as it lurched towards him with menacing intent. But then, a sly grin spread across his face:
'Oh yeah, almost forgot about my Aknaili persona.' With swift motion, a black void mask materialized on his face, and two sleek pistols appeared in his hands. He infused his energy into the weapons, and he unleashed a barrage of shots at the ogre. The bullets tore through the air, striking the monster with precision, and its head exploded in a shower of gore.
Mark snapped out of the flashback, his mind returning to the present. He found himself perched in a tree, his eyes scanning the surroundings with a practiced air of caution.
'If that was it, I wouldn't be feeling lonely,' he thought to himself, his voice barely audible over the rustling leaves:
'But the monsters got stronger and stronger. After that day, killing monsters is the only fun thing I can do in this damn domain.' He stood motionless, his gaze sweeping the cave below, ensuring no monsters lurked nearby, waiting to strike. The silence was palpable, broken only by the soft creaking of branches and the distant roar of unseen beasts.
"The beast in the cave is equal to a Level Two Knight's power," Mark said to himself, his voice low and calculated:
"I've been monitoring it for a week now, and I've named it the Ghost Knight due to its armor and striking sword and it's quick reflexes... Well, no time to waste. I have to go in and take it out, right?" He questioned and answered himself, his tone matter of fact, as if discussing a routine task rather than a perilous battle.
Mark's eyes narrowed, his mind focused on the challenge ahead. He had been tracking the Ghost Knight for days, studying its movements and tactics. He knew this would be a formidable fight, but he was ready. With a deep breath, he steeled himself and prepared to face the beast head on.
Mark leaped from the tree and walked into the cave, his footsteps echoing off the walls.
'I don't know how long it's been, but I think three months have passed, and I still haven't gotten anything from the real world,' he thought to himself, a hint of longing in his voice:
'I miss Emily and Asami... Damn, I can now relate to those students who stayed here for years.' He paused, his mind momentarily wandering back to the real world.
Shaking off the nostalgia, Mark focused on the task at hand
"Oh yeah, what weapons am I using today?" He glanced down at his left wrist, where a small knife was sheathed, and his left hand, a mask materialized in his hand, and adorned his fingers:
"Well, I'll train my close combat," he decided, pulling out the knife. As he ventured deeper into the cave.
Suddenly, a red armored figure came into view. Mark's eyes narrowed, not a knight, but a skeleton in knight's armor. Its shiny blue armor and long blue sword gleamed in the dim light, and it stood motionless, as if waiting for him.
"Yo, Ghost Knight," Mark called out, his voice echoing off the walls.
Mark's grip on the knife tightened, and it began to transform. The black blade elongated, and the handle extended, morphing into a long handled black scythe. As he channeled his energy into the weapon, a dark aura erupted from the scythe, enveloping everything within a meter's radius. The air seemed to distort, as if reality itself was bending to accommodate the weapon's power. The black aura pulsed with an otherworldly energy, crackling with an intense power that seemed to hunger for destruction. Mark's eyes gleamed, his focus solely on the Ghost Knight before him.
Mark's face split into a fierce grin as he launched himself at the Ghost Knight with incredible speed, his movements a blur. The knight, as if anticipating the attack, swung its sword in a swift arc, blocking Mark's initial strike. Without hesitation, it countered with a flurry of blows that Mark barely managed to deflect, his scythe flashing in the dim light.
Mark leapt to the side, avoiding a potentially fatal strike, but the Ghost Knight was relentless. It closed in with lightning speed, its sword slicing through the air with a deadly whisper. Mark stumbled backward, his feet tangling, and he landed hard on his knees. Before he could even process the pain, the Ghost Knight attacked again, its sword flashing down.
Mark raised his scythe, desperate to block the blow, but the knight's strength was formidable. The sword bit deep into the ground mere inches from Mark's face, sending shards of stone flying everywhere.
Mark got up and unleashed a flurry of consecutive attacks, each strike blending seamlessly into the next, forming a deadly dance of steel and shadow. The Ghost Knight, its movements swift but ultimately futile, blocked each blow with its sword, the clang of metal on metal echoing through the cavern. The final strike landed precisely, slashing across the Ghost Knight's shoulder and sending it stumbling backward, its sword clattering to the ground.
The Ghost Knight rose, its empty hand grasping for its sword as if considering Mark a worthy opponent. With very deliberate movement, it retrieved its weapon, and a burst of blue light illuminated the cavern, creating a beacon that pierced the ground like a shimmering pillar. Mark's eyes widened in alarm as he realized the implications.
'Damn! Shit! I tried to prevent any commotion, but this might attract even stronger bastards,' Mark thought, his mind racing with the potential consequences:
'I need to end this, and fast, before more monsters are drawn to the scene.'