Chapter: The Duel of Legends
The ground was drenched in blood, and the battlefield roared with the chaos of war. The cries of the fallen, the clash of swords, and the explosions of energy filled the air.
At the edge of the field, a group of nobles stood observing the carnage. Their confidence was unshaken, for they had "Garius," their greatest warrior, fighting in the fray. A man undefeated in combat, a master of energy manipulation unmatched by any opponent.
One noble, watching the fight with a smug smile, remarked:
"Is this the death everyone fears? To me, he's nothing but a rat fleeing from Garius' overwhelming power."
Another noble, puffing his chest with pride, added:
"Don't worry. Garius spent years perfecting his energy control. This so-called Death is nothing but an amateur compared to him."
However, on the opposite side of the field, a group of assassins gathered silently, their eyes gleaming with confidence. They knew something the nobles didn't.
One of them, his voice low, commented as he studied Death's movements:
"They boast about their energy? We've seen Death take down energy manipulators before. It wasn't even a challenge for him."
Another assassin, with a cold smirk, replied:
"Power isn't everything… That's what they fail to understand."
-
In the center of the battlefield, Death moved like an untouchable shadow, observing his massive opponent, Garius, whose energy aura cast a faint light around him.
Garius stood tall, his enormous sword glowing with deadly energy. His deep voice echoed:
"So, you're the specter they call Death? Let's see if you live up to the name."
Death remained silent as always, his sharp gaze fixed on Garius. He wasn't listening to the words; he was studying his opponent—his movements, his weaknesses.
Suddenly, Garius charged with blinding speed, aiming a crushing blow at Death. The ground shook from the force of the attack, but Death evaded effortlessly, his movements like a graceful dance among shadows.
At that moment, Garius's mind raced: "How does he move so fast? How is he reading my every move?" Doubt began to creep into his thoughts.
On the other side, Death calmly analyzed:
"His attacks are powerful, but his overconfidence in his energy is his greatest weakness. It blinds him to the openings he leaves with every strike."
As the battle intensified, the nobles' initial confidence wavered. One of them, his voice trembling, asked:
"Why is Garius taking so long? He's defeated far stronger opponents in less time."
Meanwhile, the assassins' confidence only grew. One of them, with a faint smile, said:
"They rely solely on power… but Death sees what they cannot. His silence is the mark of a victor."
---
The duel reached its climax. Garius, now surrounded by a dense aura of energy, unleashed strikes that created small explosions with each swing.
In a fit of rage, Garius bellowed:
"Stop running and face me head-on!"
But Death, with his calm, focused eyes, noticed what no one else did. Garius's excess power was slowing him down, and his energy was beginning to wane.
"The chance is near…" Death thought, his gaze locked onto a new vulnerability in Garius's defenses.
In a decisive move, Death threw a dagger toward Garius. The warrior blocked it easily, but it was merely a distraction. Seizing the opening, Death closed the distance swiftly, attacking from an unexpected angle.
With precision and speed, he plunged his blade into Garius's neck, bypassing the energy barrier that protected the rest of his body. Garius's eyes widened, a faint sound escaping his lips—a mix of anger and disbelief.
-
Garius collapsed to his knees, his vision blurring as his thoughts faded. "How… how could a mere assassin… someone without formal training… defeat me?" He looked at Death, searching for mercy, but found none in his cold, unyielding eyes.
In a voice as sharp as his blade, Death spoke:
"Power without tactical mastery… is a burden."
And with that, Garius's consciousness slipped away.
Death slowly withdrew his dagger, letting Garius's lifeless body fall to the ground, ending everything in a chilling silence.
The nobles were left in utter shock, their confidence shattered in an instant as fear began to grip their hearts.
The assassins, on the other hand, looked at Death with quiet admiration. This man was a living legend, embodying the very essence of his name.
The battle had ended, but it left an indelible mark on all who witnessed it. Warriors on both sides came to realize that Death was not merely a name—it was a terrifying, inescapable reality.