There was an old man sitting on a crumbling throne, his left arm freshly severed, the wound still raw. His grip on the spear in his remaining hand was firm, and his eyes—sharp and ferocious—radiated a bloodlust so intense it would have frozen a lesser man in his tracks. He didn't flinch when I entered.
"Come out," he growled, his voice low and menacing. The air around him seemed to vibrate with his presence.
Silence followed. I remained hidden, uncertain of how much he truly sensed.
"I noticed you the second you stepped into my home. Come out. Don't make me angry."
Reluctantly, I stepped into the center of the ruined throne room, my boots echoing against the cracked stone floor. The place was a wreck—broken murals lined the walls, and patches of light streamed through the gaps in the crumbling ceiling. It felt like the ruins themselves were barely holding together.
His eyes locked onto me, cold and calculating. "Who are you?" he demanded.
"Ron. Rondell," I replied, drawing my sword in a slow, deliberate motion. The weight of it felt reassuring in my hand. "I've come for revenge."
I summoned more of the strange energy, feeling it surge through my veins. It appeared grayish to me, flickering around my body like a living mist. Delilah once described it as colorless, just a force beyond the visible spectrum, but to me, it had always been this gray hue.
The old man tilted his head, amused. "Aura, huh? You don't look a day over 20… You must be the kid Red was talking about."
I narrowed my eyes. "Where is he? I'll kill him too."
His lips curled into a faint smile, a bitter one. "You're too late. Red left."
My heart pounded harder in my chest. "Then I'll kill you and everyone else who's still here. After that, I'll find him, and I'll kill him too, just like I'm going to kill you now." I tightened my grip on my sword, raising my fighting spirit even further.
"Raise your spear, old man."
His eyes darkened, and I could feel the weight of his experience, the decades of battle behind his steady gaze. But I didn't care. This was my revenge, and nothing was going to stop me.
And so—the old man raised his spear. A yellow aura burst forth from him. In the blink of an eye, he was upon me. With one hand, he swung his spear like an oversized stick. More arrows appeared in my line of vision.
I parried once, twice, and thrice, before I found an opening. "Die," I stabbed.
The old man sidestepped, twirled, closed in, and elbowed me in the face. I stomped my right leg, forcing myself not to fall. I swung from right to left with all my strength. A powerful clang of metal rang out as the old man blocked with the butt of his spear. A few metal shards flew off, one nearly getting into my eye if not for Delilah's arrows demanding my attention. The force of my attack was completely dispersed.
"Your aura is strange, young man."
Aura? Was that what this 'strange energy' was called?
"This is how you use it." The old man crouched low as the yellow aura coiled around his legs.
Then came a thrust. I tilted my head at the last second, barely dodging. I felt my neck burning on the left side.
[Warning: severe bruising to the cervical spine.]
A small humanoid illusion appeared in the corner of my vision, reporting the damage. My breathing shortened, and I couldn't speak.
[Commencing healing as fast as possible.]
The old man didn't give me a moment to recover. He pressed the attack, relentless, his spear dancing in the air like a blur of yellow light. I could barely keep up. My body was screaming at me, but Delilah's nanomachines were already working to heal the damage.
I raised my sword again, following the arrows in my vision as they guided me. Another thrust came at me, faster this time. I blocked it, but the impact rattled through my bones, my arms trembling from the force.
"You're not bad," the old man said, his voice calm, almost amused. "But you've got a long way to go."
I gritted my teeth, ignoring the pain in my neck. "I'm not here for compliments."
I swung again, harder this time, putting everything I had into the attack. The strange energy surged through me, enhancing my speed and strength. But the old man met me head-on, his yellow aura flaring as he blocked my strike with ease.
"You rely too much on brute force," he said, shoving me back with a single powerful thrust. I stumbled, barely keeping my footing. "Aura is more than just power. It's control and precision. Well, unless you are like Red…"
I was panting now, my body drenched in sweat, but I wasn't done yet. I couldn't be. This was my fight. My revenge. I wouldn't let this old man take it away from me.
[Healing complete. All systems stable.]
"Delilah," I muttered under my breath, "give me everything you've got."
[Understood. Full combat mode engaged.]
I took a deep breath, feeling the strange energy flow through me more powerfully than before.
And here I thought I was strong enough.
This old man was clearly trouble.
[Battle Simulations in real time.]
[Calculating. Calculating.]
We exchanged blows swiftly, testing each other's defenses. I swung, and he parried with ease. He lunged, but I kept my distance, staying just out of reach. I flanked, trying to catch him off guard, but he endured, standing his ground. He thrust his spear, aiming to pierce through my defense, but I countered sharply.
[Analysis complete.]
I gave a slight jerk of my sword, just enough to deflect the spear and throw off his balance. His stance wavered, and I saw my opening. I stabbed forward, aiming for his torso. He leapt backward, narrowly escaping, his stance shifting as he pointed one foot toward me. He was readying a counter, but I had other plans.
[Pull.]
Without hesitation, I grabbed his spear and pulled with all my might. My sword was now poised parallel to his face, a lethal strike just inches away.
He reacted faster than I expected. He let go of the spear, switching his stance to a southpaw. With a fluid motion, he tapped the flat of my sword in a quick parry, lowered his center of gravity, and lashed out with a high kick. His foot connected with my left temple, hard. That strike could have killed me, but instead, I was left dazed, my vision swimming.
Despite the dizziness, I knew this was a dangerous situation—one wrong move, and it could be over.
I stumbled back, my vision blurring for a moment as the impact of the old man's kick sent a wave of pain through my skull. Everything in my body screamed for a moment of rest, but I forced myself to stay upright. I couldn't afford to fall now, not in front of him.
[Warning: cranial trauma detected. Adrenaline levels increasing.]
"Damn old man…" I muttered under my breath, shaking off the dizziness.
The old man stood there, completely unbothered, his bloodlust palpable in the air. He cracked his neck and flexed his remaining arm, his yellow aura swirling around him in a controlled storm.
"You're still standing," he observed. "Not bad. There is something odd with your aura, kid. It is colorless, like a pale imitation or an incomplete version. Nonetheless, you are able to hold your ground. Even if I only had one arm now, that is still something."
"You talk too much."
I spat out a bit of blood and tightened my grip on the sword. Delilah's real-time simulations flashed before my eyes—different attack patterns, possible outcomes, but all of them were grim if I didn't turn this around soon.
[Recommendation: Aggression. Do not allow him to regain his spear.]
My vision was still blurry, and I felt the dizziness clouding my senses.
[All five senses have been heightened.]
I braced myself, convinced the old man was about to finish me off.
[Duck.]
I followed Delilah's voice, ducking just in time to feel the wind pressure sweep over my head. It would have been a clean hit.
[Tackle forward.]
I launched myself at him, colliding with the old man. His garbled shout told me he hadn't expected an attack from someone as dazed as I was.
[Warning. Elbow coming from above. Pull.]
I reacted instinctively, grabbing the back of his knees and yanking hard. I felt his weight shift and fall forward. In that moment, I realized something—I no longer had my sword. I must've dropped it in the chaos.
[Ground and pound.]
I didn't think. I just acted. I used that strange energy… no, it was my aura. I felt it pulse through me as I grounded him and began pounding. Blow after blow, my fists connecting with his face.
When my vision finally cleared, the old man—whose name I never learned—was already dead. His face was mangled beyond recognition, bloodied with brain matter exposed. I could hardly tell he had ever been human.
[Kill Count: 3.]
Suddenly, there was a burst of aura, an intense surge of energy. The yellow glow that surrounded the corpse, deepening into a near-golden hue. Panic flooded my mind.
"What is happening!?"
The corpse of the old man twitched. Its arms jerked, and before I could react, its hands were around my throat, squeezing.
Delilah!? I screamed internally, desperate for a response.
[I don't know.]
[I don't know.]
[I don't know.]
[ERROR!]
[Preserving the host's life—]
[ERROR! ERROR!]
I felt my heart race as my vision blurred. I saw my life flash before my eyes. Am I going to die here?
The old man—or what was left of him—smirked. His lips twisted into a grotesque grin, revealing bloodied teeth. His eyes glinted with something unnatural.
"With a fake aura like yours," he rasped, his voice distorted, "you'd never know the heights I've once reached! Let me teach you, boy, the miracles it can harness—"