The air was thick with tension as the dark-haired man made his move, darting toward us with a speed that spoke of countless battles fought and won. His eyes were steely, a focus that showed he wouldn't hesitate to strike us down. My heart pounded in my chest, but I pushed my nerves aside.
I glanced at Chris, giving her a quick nod to signal that I needed her support with her magic. This guy was on another level, and without a sword to match his, I'd have to rely heavily on spells and quick thinking to keep us both alive. I could only hope Chris was ready.
The man skidded to a halt just within the range of his sword, his posture a perfect picture of deadly intent. I saw the familiar flicker of mana gathering around his blade, a telltale sign he was about to use a skill. My muscles tensed, ready to react.
"Sharp nail!" he roared, his voice cutting through the air like the weapon he wielded. His speed increased in an instant, blurring his figure as he lunged for my torso, aiming for a critical strike.
"Wind repel!" I shouted, thrusting my hands forward. The air in front of me shimmered briefly before condensing into an invisible barrier. His sword struck it with a loud thud, stopping dead in its tracks as if hitting an unbreakable wall. The surprise flashed in his eyes for the briefest of moments, and I seized the opportunity.
"Chris!" I called out, my voice strained with urgency.
Her response was immediate, her voice rising with a chant that carried both power and grace. "I call an arrow of water here and now." Her eyes shone with determination. "Let the tremendous protection of water be upon the location thou seekest." Each word she spoke was like a thread weaving together the magic she was about to unleash.
"Water arrow!" she cried out, and with a swift motion of her hands, three gleaming arrows of water materialized before her, each one shimmering with a blue hue. They shot forward with the force of a storm, speeding toward the dark-haired man like avenging spirits.
But he was prepared this time. His gaze hardened as he assessed the incoming threat. "The same move won't hit me twice," he muttered under his breath, his tone icy with confidence. He shifted his stance and activated another skill.
"Spinning shield!" he shouted. His arms and sword began to whirl around him at a blinding speed, creating a vortex that seemed to distort the air itself. When Chris's water arrows met his spinning shield, they disintegrated upon impact, evaporating into a fine mist that was sucked into the swirling motion around him. It was an intermediate swordsmanship skill, one I recognized immediately. My uncle Philip had used that same technique in our duel.
A chill ran down my spine. Who was this guy? He looked like he was in his late teens, maybe just out of adolescence, but the way he moved and the techniques he employed were far beyond that of a mere street fighter or bandit. Could he be a soldier fresh from the battlefield? If so, what was he doing here? Questions raced through my mind, but one thing was clear—he was dangerous.
His earlier words echoed in my head: "I don't care if you're a child or not; anyone who's a dog of this fucking kingdom is going to die at my hands." It was more than just an insult; it was a declaration of hatred. Hatred for the kingdom, for what it represented. But why? What had driven him to this point?
"What do you mean by dog in this kingdom?" I blurted out, my curiosity and confusion getting the better of me. I needed to understand what was driving him, to make sense of this senseless violence.
He scoffed, his eyes narrowing with contempt. "Huh? Can't you get it?" His voice was filled with disdain, as if the answer should have been obvious. "Why in hell are all the people of this kingdom so ignorant?" His words dripped with bitterness. "If this kingdom orders you to fight on the battlefield without any complaints, you'll just go there and fight, right? Just like a dog to his owner."
I clenched my fists, anger boiling up inside me. "Are you an idiot?" I snapped back, the words leaving my mouth before I could think. "We choose to fight on the battlefield because we want to protect this kingdom."
He let out a derisive laugh, shaking his head. "Oh, what a noble thing to do! That's admirable!" He mocked, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Is that what you want me to say?" His eyes bore into mine, searching for something. "If you think like that, then that just means you're already being brainwashed by this kingdom." He stepped closer, his expression darkening. "While we common people are fighting on the battlefield, what do you think the king of this kingdom is doing?" His words were like knives, cutting deep into the core of the matter. "What do you think the nobles are doing?" His voice rose with each question. "They're just living their lives here without any harm while we soldiers are protecting them."
He paused, his gaze flickering with the ghosts of battles fought and comrades lost. "Those nobles who are supposed to have more magical and swordsmanship talent than us are just living their peaceful lives here while the soldiers are protecting them," he spat, his voice trembling with barely suppressed rage.
"Didn't you know that the knights on the battlefield are nobles?" I asked, trying to find some common ground, some way to reach him.
He sneered, his lips curling into a cruel smile. "Those knights?" He scoffed. "Who is not even fighting on the frontlines but just hides at the back of the soldiers?" His words were filled with venom, and I realized that no amount of reasoning would reach him. His mind was set, his beliefs forged in the fires of his own experiences.
As I stood there, facing this man who was both a stranger and a reflection of the kingdom's darker side, I couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow. What had happened to him to make him hate so deeply? What had he seen, what had he lost, that made him see us as nothing more than dogs to a cruel master?
The battlefield had always been a place of uncertainty, a realm where truths were buried beneath the cries of the fallen and the clang of swords. The dark-haired guy's words struck a chord, echoing the doubts I'd tried to silence. Was this kingdom really using us? If so, what was the point of risking our lives out there?
"Will, don't be deceived by what he is saying!" Chris's voice cut through the haze of my thoughts, sharp and insistent. Her eyes were blazing with a fierce determination that I rarely saw. "This kingdom that my father risked his life for is not like that!"
The dark-haired guy's face twisted with confusion and anger. "How do you know that's what's happening on the battlefield?" Chris challenged him, her voice ringing with conviction. "Have you ever been there?"
Her words landed like a slap. He stumbled for a moment, visibly startled. "N-no, I haven't been there," he stammered, his earlier confidence faltering. "But Mister Carson told me what was happening on the battlefield was like that."
"Then aren't you the one being brainwashed by that Mister Carson?" Chris shot back without hesitation. Her eyes were locked on him, unyielding.
His expression contorted with rage at her words. "Don't you ever insult Mister Carson!" he shouted, his voice breaking into a furious growl. Without warning, he lunged toward Chris, his focus entirely on her now, as if I wasn't even in the room.
"Water shield!" I yelled, thrusting my hand forward. A shimmering wall of water erupted between them, rippling with magical energy. For a second, I thought it would hold.
"Vertical slash!" His voice was a roar of fury as he swung his sword down. The blade sliced through the water like it was nothing, tearing my shield in half. The shimmering liquid fell to the ground, splashing into droplets that quickly dissipated. He didn't stop, his feet pounding the floor as he continued toward Chris.
"Chris, run!" I shouted, my voice cracking with urgency. I could feel the pulse of my own fear in my chest, but I forced it down. "This guy is out of control; he will definitely kill you." My voice was a desperate plea now. "Go upstairs; Father is there."
"But how about you, Will?" Chris's voice wavered with worry as she hesitated, glancing between me and the stairs.
"I'll just buy you some time so you can escape," I promised, trying to keep my voice steady, to sound braver than I felt. "Then after that, I'll also escape, so go now."
She nodded, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and resolve. "Okay, please don't get hurt," she said, her voice small but determined. She turned and sprinted towards the stairs, her footsteps echoing in the hallway.
"Did you really think I'd let you escape?" The dark-haired guy snarled, his eyes narrowing as he changed course to chase after Chris.
"Water shield," I called out again, summoning another wall of water. I knew it was futile—he had already proven he could cut through it—but it was all I could think to do in the heat of the moment.
"Horizontal slash!" he shouted, and his blade moved in a deadly arc. The water shield split apart again, the magical energy dissolving into thin air.
Chris had just reached the stairs. I felt a surge of relief, but it was quickly overshadowed by panic. He was right on her heels, his sword raised. There was no time left. I had to act now.
"Sonic boom!" I screamed, and a blade of slicing wind shot from my hand, hurtling towards his back with a deafening roar.
He clicked his tongue in irritation and spun around, his eyes narrowing in anger. "Spinning shield!" he shouted, twirling his sword around him. The slicing wind collided with his spinning blade and disappeared in an instant, as if it had never existed.
Chris was already at the top of the stairs. I could hear her footsteps growing fainter as she ran. Relief flooded through me—she was safe, at least for now. But now his attention was back on me, and the hatred in his eyes had only grown more intense.
"You fucking child!" he spat, his voice shaking with fury. His grip on his sword tightened until his knuckles turned white. "I'll kill you first, then—that's what you want, right?" He advanced toward me, each step deliberate and menacing.
I jumped backward, putting as much distance between us as I could. My heart was pounding in my chest, the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I had to keep him at a distance—up close, I stood no chance against him. If only I had my sword, maybe things would be different. But there was no point in wishing for things I didn't have. I had to work with what I had.
"I am Will," I said, my voice firm despite the fear curling in my stomach. I took a stance, feet planted firmly on the ground, ready for whatever came next. "A normal ten-year-old boy."
He glared at me, clearly understanding the significance of my words. In this kingdom, it was customary to exchange names before a duel—it was a matter of honor. And by declaring my name first, I had forced him to do the same. His lips twisted in disdain.
"Tsk, this fucking kingdom and its rules," he muttered under his breath. For a moment, it looked like he might refuse. But then, with a reluctant scowl, he lifted his head and met my gaze. "I am Ruel, the one who will kill you," he declared, taking his own stance, his sword held out in front of him, glinting with lethal intent.
We stared at each other, the tension thick in the air between us. The room seemed to hold its breath as we prepared for the clash that would inevitably follow.