On the outskirts of a dark forest, in a rocky field where life seemed to have been brutally torn away, the ground was scarred with deep craters, stained with dark, viscous blood from a massacre beyond imagination. The once-majestic trees now stood mutilated and shattered, while the mangled corpses of fallen warriors lay scattered across the land, silent witnesses to an unrelenting conflict.
The eerie silence that gripped the scene was broken only by the harsh clash of blades, the sound of metal grinding against metal echoing across the devastated landscape. On one side, a swordsman draped in tattered black stood firm, facing a demonic creature whose twisted horns spiraled into the air like spears piercing the mist. The fiend was a living embodiment of terror, its very presence exuding an aura of malevolence as it charged at the swordsman with blinding speed.
The swordsman, wielding a sword as dark as night with a hilt that shimmered faintly under the pale sunlight, moved with grace, dodging the ferocious strikes of his enemy. His long white hair flowed in the wind as he evaded blow after deadly blow. The creature's massive blade cut through the air with savage strength, its swings so fierce that the tops of the trees trembled, leaves fluttering to the ground like souls lost in the wind.
With a deafening clang, their swords collided, the force of the impact sending tremors through the ground. The swordsman staggered back a few steps, his arm trembling from the sheer power of the strike, his grip tightening on the hilt as the shock reverberated through his entire body. Dust rose into the air, thick and suffocating, further clouding the battlefield.
— You're falling behind, Persisting One! — the demonic voice boomed, dripping with contempt and malice. The weight of those words seemed to press down on the battlefield like an unseen hand, suffocating all hope.
In the oppressive stillness, only the faintest whispers of anguish remained, the ghosts of the slain echoing their silent cries.
— The journey has only just begun, TYDMORT!! — the swordsman shouted, his voice hoarse and ragged, blood trickling from his nose as his body quivered with exhaustion. His breaths were labored, his chest rising and falling with the effort to remain standing, sweat mingling with the blood on his pale skin.
— Why do you persist?! — the creature demanded, its towering form a mix of curiosity and disdain, eyes glowing with infernal light.
The swordsman, his breath steadying, raised an eyebrow at the question, his heart slowing as he considered his answer. Tydmort's twisted grin revealed razor-sharp teeth, and a dark, mocking laugh escaped his throat, echoing across the field of death like a taunt from the abyss itself.
— Ooh, because you're human, aren't you? — Tydmort sneered, lifting a clawed hand to scratch idly at one of his twisted horns, his tone dripping with sarcastic pity.
The swordsman straightened, his breathing steady now, a renewed focus settling over him. He locked eyes with the demon, who watched with a wicked smile.
— Once… someone told me... — he began, his voice low but steady. — that if you wield a sword long enough, it becomes part of you. That's why, as long as my blade remains sharp, so too will I! — his words rang out with defiance, cutting through the tension like the edge of his sword, causing the demon's mocking expression to falter.
— MADNESS!! — Swords break! Swords die!! — Tydmort bellowed, his voice now a chilling roar that matched his monstrous appearance, his expression twisting in fury as his disbelief poisoned the air.
"You'll never understand, will you?" thought the swordsman, a resigned smile playing on his lips as he realized the demon before him would never grasp the depth of his resolve.
— If that's what you believe, Tydmort. — the swordsman replied, tightening his grip on the hilt, his stance shifting as he prepared for the final strike in what could very well be his last battle.
With unwavering precision, he lowered his sword to his waist, its tip pointing behind him, his right foot planted firmly in the blood-soaked earth, the other extended behind him like an arrow pulled taut. The blade, dark as a midnight storm, shimmered with a light of its own, casting a radiant glow over the battlefield. Meanwhile, Tydmort brandished his weapon with a menacing grin, his eyes ablaze with crimson fury. The air around him shimmered as his energy flared, glowing with a sickly red light, his body seething with bloodlust.
With a voice like thunder cracking across the heavens, the demon declared:
— Let our battle be remembered, Eigan!!
In an instant, like lightning flashing across a stormy sky, they disappeared-only to reappear in a violent clash of steel and fury. The sheer force of their collision sent shockwaves through the air, a deafening explosion of dark reds and blacks erupted from the impact. The heat that radiated from their blades made the air shimmer and dance, while the ground beneath their feet quaked.