"H-H-He's upstairs…"
the thug stammered, his knees buckling beneath him as though the very weight of Rayliar's presence threatened to crush him.
"Good to know,"
Rayliar replied, offering a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
He turned toward the staircase, his every movement deliberate.
Tack.
Tack.
Tack.
His boots struck the wooden steps, the sound echoing through the eerily silent brothel. The air was thick with the scent of stale alcohol and unwashed bodies, but Rayliar paid it no mind. His focus was fixed entirely on the man waiting above.
At the top of the stairs was a room lit by the dull glow of flickering candles. A single man sprawled across a tattered couch, his posture exuding confidence. One massive arm hung loosely around the waists of two scantily clad women, while his other hand toyed with the hilt of an enormous greatsword resting beside him.
"Ah, don't worry, girls," the man said, his gruff voice filled with mock reassurance. "We'll have some real fun once I'm done here."
Rayliar stepped into the room, his crimson cloak trailing behind him like a predator's shadow. His golden eyes gleamed in the dim light.
"Are you Kruger?"
The man's head snapped up, his expression twisting into one of irritation. "Yeah. Who's asking?" His grip on the women tightened, eliciting a whimper from one of them.
Rayliar ignored the question. "Doesn't matter."
At first glance, Kruger was a giant of a man, towering over two meters with shoulders broad enough to block out the light. His muscles rippled beneath his scarred skin, each mark a trophy from countless battles.
This isn't just a thug.
Rayliar's gaze sharpened, his mind cataloging every detail. The calluses on Kruger's hands, the faint tremor of his breathing, and the casual way he held the massive greatsword spoke of years of relentless training.
Lifeless green eyes met Rayliar's own. Behind them was neither fear nor excitement—just cold calculation.
A dangerous opponent, indeed.
"Let's get this over with," Rayliar said, raising his axe.
Kruger didn't wait for an invitation. Letting go of one of the women, he surged forward with surprising speed, his greatsword cutting through the air in a deadly arc.
Clang!
Rayliar met the strike with his axe, the force of the impact sending vibrations up his arm. Sparks flew as the blades ground against each other.
"You're not bad," Kruger admitted, his grin widening.
"And you're slow," Rayliar countered.
Before Kruger could respond, Rayliar spun on his heel, his axe arcing toward the man's throat.
Kruger reacted instantly, yanking the remaining woman into the path of the blade.
"Kyahhh!"
The woman's scream filled the room as Rayliar halted his strike mere millimeters from her neck.
Bastard.
The distraction cost him. A sudden force slammed into Rayliar's ribs, sending him flying across the room.
Boom!
Rayliar twisted midair, his body landing in a crouch. He looked up to find Kruger advancing, the greatsword already swinging down.
Rayliar raised his axe just in time to deflect the blow. The sheer weight of Kruger's weapon embedded it into the floor with a loud crack.
"You've got guts, I'll give you that," Kruger said, veins bulging as he yanked his sword free, splinters flying everywhere.
"And you've got poor technique," Rayliar replied, stepping back to avoid the follow-up swing.
The two clashed again, their weapons a blur of motion. Each strike was met with a counter, each feint with a precise parry. The room trembled under the weight of their battle.
Rayliar darted forward, his axe slashing at Kruger's side. The blade bit into flesh but failed to go deep as Kruger twisted away at the last second.
"Too slow!" Kruger taunted, his own sword carving through the air.
Rayliar leapt onto the blade, using it as a springboard to vault behind his opponent. With a spinning motion, he aimed his axe for Kruger's neck.
Kruger raised his arm, mana flaring around it. The axe struck, ripping through muscle and bone, but the man barely flinched.
"That all you got?" Kruger growled, his free hand shooting out to grab Rayliar by the collar.
Boom!
Kruger's knee drove into Rayliar's chest, launching him into the wall. The impact sent cracks spiderwebbing across the surface.
"Been a while since I had this much fun," Kruger admitted, licking the blood dripping from his arm.
_________
Rayliar wiped a trickle of blood from his mouth as he stood. His eyes never left Kruger, who had suddenly changed his stance.
The shift was subtle but undeniable. Kruger's shoulders relaxed, his grip on the greatsword reversed, holding it like a dagger.
The air around him grew heavier, almost suffocating.
"Imperial Swordsmanship?" Rayliar muttered, recognizing the dangerous style.
Kruger's grin returned. "You've got a sharp eye, kid. Guess I'll have to kill you with my best moves."
___________
Imperial Swordsmanship
A combat style taught exclusively to Imperial soldiers.
Throughout his military career, Kruger had spent countless days mastering every nuance of the style.
But since leaving the army, he had never needed to use it.
Why?
Because no one had ever forced him to.
___________
Mana crackled around Rayliar's axes as he raised them. "Guess I'll have to survive."
Kruger moved first, his blade a blur as it tore through the air. Rayliar deflected the blow, the force of the clash rattling his bones.
"You're good, but not good enough," Kruger growled, his strikes becoming faster and more erratic.
Rayliar dodged and countered, his axes carving shallow wounds into Kruger's flesh. But the man's sheer size and resilience made it difficult to land a decisive blow.
This is taking too long.
Rayliar's gaze flicked to the ceiling, an idea forming.
Kruger swung again, aiming to cleave Rayliar in two.
Shoom!
Rayliar leapt, his boots landing on the ceiling. For a moment, he hung there, defying gravity.
"What the—" Kruger began.
"Chop," Rayliar whispered, a surge of mana flooding into his weapon.
The axe came down, releasing a blinding white arc of energy.
Kruger's instincts screamed at him. He raised his greatsword, pouring every ounce of mana he had into it.
"Death Slash!" he roared, unleashing a wave of crimson energy to meet the attack.
The two forces collided, the impact shaking the entire building. For a moment, it seemed the energies were evenly matched.
But Rayliar's attack didn't stop. It cut through Kruger's slash as though it were paper, continuing its relentless path.
Kruger's eyes widened as the beam struck. He didn't even have time to scream.
The greatsword shattered, his body split in two. The ground beneath him crumbled, and the entire brothel collapsed into a heap of rubble.
Rayliar stood amidst the ruins, his axes resting at his sides. Dust and debris filled the air, the once-lively brothel reduced to little more than a pile of broken wood and stone.
"Guess I overdid it," he muttered, stepping over the wreckage.
Finding Kruger's body would take some time, but Rayliar wasn't in a rush. For now, he'd savor the silence—the calm after the storm.