The Virtual Realm (War Of The Elements Book 1)
Page 32
“Hmm, it’s not like I don’t sympathize with you. After hearing your situation, I think it’d be very difficult for me to turn my brother in. In the end though, I believe I’d realize it was the right thing to do and take action.”
Jigsaw cackled obnoxiously, unable to believe the audacious answer he had just heard. They were indeed both Phantoms, but they couldn’t have been any more different. This naive fool knew nothing of hardship.
“What a load of bullshit. Right for who exactly?”
“For your brother and for all the innocent people he would keep killing if allowed to roam free.”
“Fuck other people! As if I give a shit about that. As for my brother, how is having Ace sit in a jail cell for the rest of his life better for him?”
“He can atone for his crimes and think about what he has done. Perhaps he will become a better person.”
Jigsaw shook his head in an exaggerated motion. Trying to vocalize his disappointment in words would be like trying to capture the five oceans in a handheld jar.
“What a shitty answer. I don’t even know why I wasted my time. You who grew up in a middle class neighborhood, having shit spoon-fed to you couldn’t possibly understand a true blood bond. I should’ve realized this sooner.”
“Jigsaw...”
“Enough! No more talking. We only speak with our swords from now on.”
“You don’t have to live in your brother’s shadow,” Dusk pleaded, hoping his words would reach him.
This sentence was only met with grim silence.
Dusk exhaled deeply, accepting the fact that the only way words would reach this man was through his blades. He raised his swords in front of him, preparing what he hoped would be a final attack. He kicked off his feet, rushing in a line diagonally to the right instead of going for a straight mad dash at his opponent. He planted his right foot into the ground, abruptly coming to a stop and making a blitz for Jigsaw.
Jigsaw lifted both his swords, readying himself for the incoming assault. Just then, Dusk had vanished in the middle of his second dash, becoming invisible to Jigsaw’s eyes. The stout swordsman panicked, not having expected this kind of trickery. To attempt to counter this, he did the first thing that came to mind, imitating his enemy’s action as he disappeared. He was hoping Dusk wouldn’t see him—but his reaction was too late. He couldn’t dodge the incoming offensive. He didn’t have time. Could only guard himself with his swords. Could only guess where Dusk would strike. It was a fatal shell game where picking the wrong shell might send him to the grim reaper.
Unfortunately for him, the shell he chose was a dud. He was guarding his torso, as that is where the most damage could be done, aside from the head. But Dusk was aiming for his legs. He felt metal slicing itself into him as his blue-eyed enemy became visible. Dusk had cut deep into both of his thighs, sending blood gushing out in abundance. Jigsaw merely released a stifled grunt upon receiving a level of trauma that would normally cause others to scream.
Truth be told, Dusk could’ve stabbed him in the head and ended the fight, but killing him wasn’t what he was after. He was determined to win this fight without murder. He did not desire more death. Moments after lacerating Jigsaw’s legs and withdrawing his swords, he leapt upwards from the ground and right into Jigsaw with all of his strength, putting all of his weight into the instruments of death within his hand as he clashed straight into Jigsaw’s vermillion and abyssal swords. The moment the blades touched, he straightened his arms, swinging both blades outward, drawing two opposite diagonal trajectories. This attack had broken through Jigsaw’s guard, leaving yet another slanted cut on his upper chest, practically at his collarbone. Jigsaw immediately leapt backwards, creating a safe distance from him and the razor-sharp gauntlet.
Dusk was in awe at this point. Here was his adversary, with blood practically pouring out from him in buckets in seven places. Yet he stood tall, outwardly unaffected by these attacks. He even hopped backwards, which definitely jolted Dusk, given that he had just pierced into both of his legs. To top it all off, Jigsaw was smiling. In fact, he probably couldn’t smile any wider if he tried.
How in the hell is he doing this? Doesn't he feel pain? What’s wrong with him? He’s definitely not normal... But his HP says he’s around 25%. No matter how tough he acts, his health pool doesn’t lie. He’s just a player like everyone else. If that life gauge reached 0%, he’d be dead. I can’t let that happen.
Dusk’s lips were quivering, his mind slightly disturbed at this unseemly spectacle before him. At this point, he felt he had to say something.
“Hey, that’s enough isn’t it? Can you please give up? I don’t want to hurt you anymore. Please.”
Jigsaw’s ruby and sable colored blades were now basking in the glow of an emerald light. It seemed he wanted more.
“That won’t do. This battle’s not over. I haven’t had enough, not nearly enough!”
Jigsaw sprinted forward in an animalistic pounce. Dusk clutched his blades, gritting his teeth in an exceptional rage because of Jigsaw’s stubborn decision.
This was all Dusk had time to do before Jigsaw’s blades met his with reckless abandon. Jigsaw, in his bloody desperation, had forgone his entire defense—now only concerned with killing his enemy. The rate at which he was dealing out attacks was uncanny; it was almost like he was possessed by a bloodthirsty demon.
Dusk met these satanic attacks head on, just barely keeping up with Jigsaw’s pace. He couldn’t go on the offensive like this, Jigsaw was too fast. Countless slashes were exchanged, but instead of slowing down, the attack speed of the two fighters only seemed to increase as time went on; practically beyond the limits of what a human could control. The noises of nonstop rattling echoed throughout the courtyard as the morning sun beamed upon the two entranced Phantoms. A shower of sparks erupted around the combatants. It almost looked like the grand finale of a fireworks show.
There was no time to scream or to think. All that existed in this moment were four blades locked in eternal combat. Finally, after a great number of sword strikes, thrusts, and parries, one of the fighters had gained a definitive advantage. Jigsaw managed to interlock his blades on the inside of Dusk’s swords. Seizing this chance, he pushed his arms in an outward motion, causing Dusk’s arms to fly out, breaking his guard, and leaving his body completely open for attack.
Jigsaw did just that, swinging his two arms back inside, and drawing a giant bloody X on Dusk’s torso. The scarlet fluid sprayed outward in a bloody cornucopia, causing Dusk to yell in agony. It would seem he did not have Jigsaw’s tolerance for pain. He recoiled backward, landing on his feet clumsily in order to get himself out of harm’s way.
Dusk had his hands on his knees panting heavily, attempting to deal with the awful pain as best as he could. He hacked out a bloody cough, forming a scarlet puddle on the hot grass. He was not the only one covered in wounds, however. Jigsaw too, had crimson pouring out of his mouth like a fountain. The two warriors both had their bodies mutilated, practically looking like walking corpses at this point.
Jigsaw spoke, ironically turning the righteous Phantom's question back on him.
“I don’t suppose you’ll give up now will you? I actually don’t want to kill you.”
Dusk stood up straight, becoming deathly silent. There was no way he would lose here. Failure was not an option. A moment later, he howled savagely, his battle cry resounding throughout the room.
He stormed directly for Jigsaw, a bloody haze enveloping him, the agony radiating throughout his body driving him to fight even harder. It was obvious by this point that neither of these two would give up until they were unconscious or dead. They exchanged another multitude of blood-desiring blows, as Jigsaw laughed brutally at the top of his lungs during the deathly exchange.
“Ahahahaha! Yes! Yes! This is what I’m talking about! A bloody battle with both of our lives on the line. This is the best. I love it!”
Dusk completely ignored Jigsaw’s sadistic ecstasy. He really
didn’t care at this point. He was too caught up in his own bloody mist to allow himself to be unnerved by his demonic foe, or care what he had to say any longer. The only thought on his mind right now was winning.
After two months of this guild tormenting me, it ends here. It has to end here. Tsuki is going to win her battle, so I have to win mine. I won’t let her down. Personally, I can’t take losing to this guy. This guy, who has this low confidence in himself... content to live in his brother’s murderous shadow. I won’t fucking lose. I refuse. I refuse to lose here. Please body; don’t give out on me now!
Dusk pushed forward in a frenzy of lacerations, one after the other, like a rapid fire machinegun.
Not fast enough.
At this point, the clashing of blades between these two men were now merely colored blurs. Their world was filled with a rush of orchid, white, sanguine, and jet-black hues.
Even Jigsaw in his demonic state was beginning to struggle, almost losing control of his defense. He wasn’t sure if he could keep this up, even with the thrall of battle consuming him. If Dusk got any faster than this Jigsaw would probably... die. He hoped his battle immersed enemy would become exhausted soon.
Unfortunately for Jigsaw, the opposite happened. Dusk’s blood lusted frenzy only increased in intensity, the speedy assault cranking up to turbo speed. He let loose another primal roar, completely giving in to the animal within him.
At the same time, his mind was racing a mile a minute, but it was only one thought that was racing through his head over and over.
Faster—nothing else matters right now. This isn’t good enough. Keep going faster and faster, until you get...through!
After a continuous barrage of blows, the entranced Phantom finally managed to cause Jigsaw to stagger, breaking his staunch guard. Taking hold of this opportunity without even a millisecond of hesitation, Dusk ran his amethyst blade through Jigsaw’s abdomen, promptly extracting it.
For a moment Dusk was having a deadly déjà vu as a sickening image of Menos was conjured in his consciousness—the nostalgic fright of a long past deed enveloping him in icy tendrils. Much to his relief, it would seem he had stabbed a nonfatal area this time. Either that or Jigsaw’s resilient body saved him from death, probably the latter. Jigsaw’s health pool was currently one push away from a bottomless pit. Dusk attempted to breathe deeply in overwhelming relief, but because of the pain he was stopped short, drawing a shallower breath than he would’ve liked. He hadn’t felt physical agony like this since... ever.
“Ugh. Fuck this hurts.”
His relief was cut short upon noticing his enemy had not fallen, even though he was a bloody torn up mess.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me. How can you still be standing after all this? Please, please give up. I don’t want to kill anyone else, so please,” Dusk begged vehemently with his voice quavering, practically in tears.
He was met with a complete quietude in response to his plea, the only note coming from Jigsaw being the nigh undetectable sound of his blood dripping onto the grass. It was then that he noticed. Jigsaw’s stamina pool was empty. By all rights he shouldn’t be standing.
Dusk stepped forward, cautious as a fox, in order to confirm his suspicions were true. As he inched ever closer to his foe, the man continued to hold his swords at his sides, not budging an inch. He tapped the stocky man’s swords curiously, waiting for a bodily response to his action. However, none came. Moments later, Dusk carefully knocked both blades out of Jigsaw’s hands, disarming him. He finally let go of his swords, letting them lay on the ground next to Jigsaw’s cardinal red blade, the battle finally over.
He put one hand on Jigsaw’s chest, as he used the other to support him. He used up every single drop of strength left in him to set Jigsaw on the ground, gently.
Dusk sighed once lightly before the stinging pain hit him once again. He chuckled in disbelief.
“I can’t believe he was still standing while unconscious. What a crazy bastard.”
Dusk felt like a walking abomination. Pain burned like a microscopic hazmat unit had just dumped vats of acid everywhere inside his body. Soreness squeezed him unbearably. His body cracked with every movement. His bloody chest burned in a wet fire. His eyelids felt like ten-ton anvils. He could barely keep himself conscious. Now that the death match was finally over, one thought propelled itself into the stratosphere of his mind.
Tsuki, I wonder how your battle is going? Have you won already or…?
Dusk opened his friends list, realizing Tsuki was probably worrying about him at this very moment. Wanting to ease her apprehension, he typed a brief message to his snow princess, and then closed the menu window. Mere seconds later, his body had all it could take. He fell backwards unconscious, smacking into the soft green which had been painted with splotches of red. The message sent to Tsuki merely contained two simple words, saying all he needed to say.
“I won.”
~~~~~
Ace lifted his regal scythe in front of him, adopting a full defensive posture before the Sword Mage in front of him whom had already taken her own guarded stance. It was then that he had noticed his opponent’s eyes wandering for a moment. Ace, having an extremely high intelligence when it came to people, was pretty certain of the reason for Tsuki’s temporary lack of focus.
“Worried about your little partner, Princess?”
Her eyes trailed back to their original positions, focusing fully on the enemy before her. She did not utter a word in response. Not satisfied with Tsuki’s silence, Ace pressed the matter further.
“Don’t worry; my bro will take care of him real good. Even if he does manage to beat my bro, I’ll kill him after I’ve dealt with you. It shouldn’t be that hard to find him now should it?”
“How are you going to find him when you are unconscious?”
The arrogant king started laughing hysterically, a single tear leaking from the corner of his eye.
“If nothing else, I do love your sense of humor.”
There was a single thought that had been circling curiously inside her head. She figured now would be the time to ask, as she may never get a break in this battle again.
“Why did you have your guild pursue Dusk for two months with the intent of killing him?”
“Huh? What do you mean? He killed one of our guys. Actions have consequences.”
“But he did it in self-defense. Surely you know that? Surely you know that your guild is the one that starts shit with everyone else?”
Ace grinned with pride, knowing this was true. That was his guild all right.
“Of course... and? So what if it was self-defense? Think I care? Listen, Princess, there’s one important point you’re missing here.”
“And what is that?”
“He attacked one of our guys. What kind of guild leader would I be if I let that shit slide? Almost every person in the Bermian territories fears my guild, the Hand of Blood. We have that reputation for a reason. It’s not because we let someone murder one of our people and get away with it. Whether it was self-defense or not doesn’t mean a goddamned thing in the end. As the guild leader...”
In the middle of his sentence, Ace’s eyes smoldered with a wicked passion, his lips twisting into a sadistic smirk.
“No, as the king, I cannot ever show weakness. If I let your friend there literally get away with murder, I would be showing that our guild is weak. That is the bottom line, Prin-cess.”
He stressed each syllable in the word ‘princess’, enjoying his mockery of her.
“Honestly, I really don’t give a rat’s ass about your friend at all. If it was anyone else, I would’ve done the same thing; it’s nothing personal really.”
Tsuki clasped her snow colored blade, the aggravation causing her grip to be unrelentingly tight. She could get along with almost anyone, but this man... This man literally represented everything she stood against.
“So you care about other people’s perception of you? How very weak of you.”
“Ah man, when I think about it, it’s honestly hilarious. You want to be a king someday, Princess? Without caring what anyone else thinks of you? You also said earlier you want to sacrifice yourself for the people. You would be one of the worst kings ever. People would walk all over you.”
“Peace is not pacifism. Just because I desire to help others does not mean I would let them walk all over me. If I was a pacifist, I wouldn’t be fighting you right now. And yes, a true king listens to their inner voice.”
“Now that I can agree on. So if my inner voice tells me to not let your friend get away with murder, what then?”
Tsuki shrugged her shoulders.
“That is not what your inner voice is telling you. You said it yourself. That you did not care about Dusk at all, and that you are only doing this so that people will not think you are weak. You are not doing this for yourself; you are doing this to keep up an idea of you that people have in their heads, one that isn’t truly you.”
The passion in her voice was intensifying as she went on speaking.
“You think my kingdom would be driven into poverty? That people would walk all over me? Let’s talk about what kind of kingdom you would create. Put simply, in the real world, you would be a dictator: One of those false rulers who lives in his ivory tower while the people around him drop dead from starvation—a leader who promotes violence and fear. What kind of nation is that?”
Ace’s subsequent riposte was saturated with satire.
“Because my guildies are living such terrible lives, right? Being in this mansion, having all the luxuries they can afford, being able to take anything they want in this world. Yes, truly, I am such a horrible king!”
“And what of the people who aren’t in your guild?”
Ace’s visage curled into a malevolent grin hearing this reply, not having any words to respond with.
“That’s what I thought,” Tsuki responded knowingly before speaking once again, her voice impassioned.