All of a sudden, Dusk could make out a human shaped distortion in the light, where the background appeared distorted.
Found you!
Dusk raised the skeletal blade overhead with posthaste, preparing to strike the enemy with a vertical slash.
Jigsaw had turned his head, noticing the light distortion created from Dusk’s wide movement, but it was too late to block the attack completely. Jigsaw could only manage to raise his right arm, preventing the blade from slicing him in the chest. A crimson splash spurted from his right arm before he promptly kicked Dusk in the stomach, knocking him back a few steps and causing the blade to release its bite on Jigsaw’s arm.
Since Jigsaw had lifted his arm upwards as much as he could to block the blade, there was little momentum behind Dusk’s swing. The skeletal blade ripped through Jigsaw’s flesh, but was stopped at the bone. The unholy blade almost seemed to groan in dissatisfaction, not having cut cleanly through its victim. The pale sword’s eyes glowed red, seeming to desire more bloodshed.
Dusk, whom had momentarily lost his breath, recovered quickly in time to see Jigsaw putting all of his acceleration forward into a single stab. Jigsaw’s red and gold blade whooshed forward in a vermillion colored streak, about to run straight through him. The adrenaline shot through his body in an instant dose. With reflexes like lightning, Dusk spun clockwise, barely avoiding this deadly thrust.
Having dodged the jab, a split second later he put all of his strength into a downward motion, using his Wyvern Fang to force his opponent’s carmine blade to the ground. Dusk followed up by aiming his Harbinger of Undeath directly at Jigsaw’s ribs, attempting to deliver an agonizing slice. Jigsaw deftly raised his left arm, parrying the attack with his ebony spike violently, sending Dusk stumbling.
With that, his Wyvern Fang released Jigsaw’s crimson blade from its vise-like grip, allowing it to move freely once again. Jigsaw quickly took advantage of this opening, drawing a path of blood along his foe's back. The blue-eyed Phantom cried out in pain, quickly gnashing his teeth together in order to recover his senses. Jigsaw attempted another attack from behind while Dusk was in the throes of torment, thrusting his ink tinted blade towards him—striving to impale him. Even though Dusk did not have eyes in the back of his head, his body sensed the danger. This murderous intent felt akin to being in the presence of a deadly snake which was inches away from striking. Feeling this imminent peril, he quickly somersaulted forward, springing to his feet and closing any window of vulnerability. He faced his foe, his body wracked with terror having felt Death’s tendrils brush against his skin.
Jigsaw couldn’t contain the violent grin on his face. This was more than he had expected. Certainly he knew this red star had avoided his fate at the hands of his guild mates for two months now. However, he simply assumed that his adversary was good at escaping. It was true that Jigsaw had the upper hand right now, but the cut on his right arm was proof that this opponent would prove to be more entertaining than he originally thought.
Dusk’s thoughts were completely different. Aside from the screeching pain burning along his back, a mental battle occurred within him beneath the layer of physical battle occurring outside.
How do I beat Jigsaw without killing him? He’s obviously a skilled dual wielder, and I can’t let myself lose to the Hand of Blood. But I absolutely refuse to have any more blood on my hands from these guys. The only ones I want to kill are Kevlar, Raven, and Shark. I’ve caused enough bloodshed in this guild. I won’t kill anyone else! But in order to win without killing him, I would have to somehow subdue him, get him to give up, or make him run out of SP and fall unconscious. Can I really do that? If I try, is it going to cost me my own life in the process?
Before he could form another thought, the clank of Jigsaw’s blades beckoned him back to reality.
Jigsaw shot off from the ground, practically like a bullet, aiming straight at Dusk with reckless abandon, intending to cut him down with that sword of unending darkness. Instead of dodging this attack, Dusk sprang into action simultaneously putting everything he had into pure speed, intending to meet his opponent’s attack head on.
The loud grating of metal scraping against metal could be heard. A great many orange sparks flashed through the air, glowing in the face of the two brutal fighters. The two were locked in a battle of strength as their swords grinded against one another, both trying to repel the other. Both Phantoms were struggling, the strain etched into their faces. Finally, after a few hellish moments that seemed to last an eternity, Jigsaw pushed Dusk backwards, having won the battle of pure might. Dusk jumped back, disappointed. His foe gave him no time to think, immediately pressing his offensive, dishing out a flurry of slashes upon him. Dusk met his every hit, exchanging blow after blow with Jigsaw. Several flashes of light were generated throughout the makeshift arena, only to have their fleeting existences disappear swiftly thereafter.
Neither of the two fighters had given an inch, both locked in a merciless game of death. Neither of the two combatants fought with grace. Instead of their movements being refined and eloquent, one could say their attacks were ruthless and relentless. Instead of countering, both soldiers let their instincts carry them. Form and wasted movement was not a concern for either Phantom. They only had one objective in mind: landing a strike on their opponent.
This deadlock of dual wielders had come to an end when Dusk recoiled backwards, having noticed that simply exchanging blows with Jigsaw was getting him nowhere. Jigsaw, wasting no time, leapt forward into the air, lifting both swords backwards, intending to unleash all of his momentum at the Black Death with both blades.
Dusk quickly gathered his wits about him, narrowly sidestepping this fatal blow. Jigsaw’s deadly blades struck the ground, causing a magenta light to erupt while blasting his eardrums in a sonic boom. Right now, Jigsaw’s back was turned. The eruption of plum radiance was just beginning to fade back into nothingness. He was completely open.
Dusk took advantage of this opportunity, using his Dragon Fang to execute a single strike cleanly across Jigsaw’s backside. He carved the enemy Phantom a blood soaked tattoo across his back that matched the one Dusk possessed, as if they were war buddies.
A small grunt escaped the stout man’s lips. His face distorted into an expression of misery for but a moment before his countenance returned to normal. He briskly got to his feet and jumped forward out of Dusk’s range before he could land another blow on him. He spun around, facing his opponent who seemed to have a grimace of intense trepidation.
Jigsaw lifted his pitch-black weapon, pointing it straight at his foe tauntingly—a wide bloodthirsty grin crossing his face. The sturdy man chuckled wildly, reveling in this intense battle.
Dusk snarled in frustration, his fists gripping his swords tightly. His body locked up, not letting his guard down for a moment. A single thought was charging to the forefront of his mind.
How can Jigsaw be laughing at a time like this?
Despite the situation, Dusk’s curious nature got the better of him. He wanted to know.
“What’s so funny?”
“Ahh nothing, those were some pretty good moves there. I can feel the pain radiating through my back. It feels amazing.”
Jigsaw uttered these words with gusto, his teeth pressed against one another, forming a joyful yet savage smile.
The expression on his enemy's face left Dusk at a loss. He had just sliced a deep cut through him but moments ago. The fresh blood was still dripping onto the grass behind him. So why would he be enjoying himself?
“What the fuck is wrong with you? We’re fighting to the death aren’t we? So why are you happy? What do you think this battle is?”
“Let me ask you something, red star. Have you ever been shot at or stabbed in the real world?”
“No, I’ve never been in a fight like that in the real world.”
Jigsaw’s next words steadily ascended in a frenzy of blood lusted rapture.
“I didn’t think so. That’
s why you can’t understand... the thrill of battle. This large slash that you gave me; the pain of this is nothing compared to this kind of cut in the real world. I’ve been shot twice and stabbed three times. Compared to that, this pain is trivial. Not even worth thinking about!”
His elation had intensified to a crescendo. His primal excitement was taking full hold of him. His loud voice had turned into battle hungry shouts.
“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?! How can you not be enjoying this? A battle with a worthy opponent. The adrenaline pumping through your veins. The high of a battle is unlike anything else in this world or the next. I’m sure bro is enjoying his fight too, if the opponent is worthy. But let me tell you this. Ace has never lost a battle in his entire life, in this world or the real world, and he’s fought over a hundred times!”
Dusk practically spat in disgust upon hearing this tirade. As if Tsuki could lose. Still, a tinge of worry had worked its way into him, gnawing annoyingly at his subconscious.
Ace has never lost a battle, and he’s fought over a hundred times? Even Tsuki might have a hard time... Please be okay, Tsuki.
He shook his head, hoping to expel those thoughts away from his brain and out of his eardrums as if they were water caught in his ears. He steeled his eyes, mentally jabbing himself for doubting his teacher for even a moment.
“I could say the same of Tsuki; I’ve never known her to lose either.”
Dusk’s facial features contorted into an arrogant smirk as he persisted in his verbal negation.
“I used to think I was strong in games, until I met her. I’ve yet to beat her in a single fight. Your brother better prepare himself...for the fight of his life.”
Jigsaw broke into a fit of savage laughter.
“I’m glad to hear that, red star. That means my brother will finally have the enjoyable battle he’s waited for.”
Dusk’s eyes locked in determination. His hands were clutching his blades firmly, composing himself for the battle ahead. He couldn’t think about Tsuki right now. As much as he wanted to help her, he had to defeat this man first. This battle was not yet over. His final silent plea to Tsuki shouted out through the very core of his being. He had hoped it would reach his Valkyrie and give her strength.
Tsuki will win. After all, I haven’t beaten her even once. Win, Tsuki.
~~~~~
After five minutes of walking with this mysterious blonde haired young man, the two had reached their destination. It was a spacious, opulently decorated battle room. The floor was covered with a rich ruby carpet, augmented with walls of cocoa wood. Tsuki’s sparkling white boots shuffled across the carpet as her eyes wandered to the walls, where several weapons clung as if magnetized. Among the vast assortment of arms were: scythes, great swords, katanas, rapiers, scimitars, cutlasses, axes, clubs, and maces. At the very end of the room loomed a large throne of black and white marble with scarlet cushioning.
Tsuki’s eyes fixated upon the very symbol of royalty. It was an object that her eyes had seen several times throughout her life. The regal item held great significance for her, but it did not belong here of all places. For this reason, her lips warped into a look of absolute repulsion.
Ace, taking notice of his opponent's disgust, grinned in self-satisfaction.
“You like this room, huh? I decorated it myself.”
“That throne...”
Tsuki paused for a moment, tearing her transfixed eyes away from the throne as she let them trail to her next target, Ace.
“That throne does not belong here.”
Ace snickered in a blanket of amusement, confusion, and curiosity.
“Just what are you talking about, Princess? I’ll even let you sit on the throne if you like. We can role play. This is a Virtual RPG, after all. But in the end... I’ll always be the king.”
“You are no king. You are merely a common thug.”
Ace’s bottom lip wrapped over his top lip, creating a large frown upon his visage. This was of course, a feigned expression, with the intent to make light of Tsuki’s words as usual. His haughty tone was laced with mock distress.
“That hurts you know. How could you call me a common thug when all these people follow my orders and do what I tell them? How can you say that when over forty people revere me?”
The fake distress had unraveled itself from Ace’s voice at this point, leaving only the conceit remaining as he continued his self-praise.
“Everything I’ve done in life, people have practically worshipped me and told me how talented I am. To call me a king would be an understatement. I’ve had people call me a god! Yet here you stand, calling me a common thug?”
Tsuki closed her eyes and drew a long, pity-filled breath from her lungs.
What a lost soul this boy is. How can someone be so caught up in themselves? How can someone be so far off the mark about what it means to be a true king?
Having finished her exaggerated display of repugnance, Tsuki opened her eyes, revealing a slightly somber light hidden within.
“You think you are the only one who is special in this world? Get over yourself. Everyone has their role to play. We are all merely a single droplet in this creation. As a single droplet we are significantly insignificant, but once those droplets begin to unite they can form a puddle, and eventually an ocean.”
“Of course, I’m not denoting the importance of the subjects who serve me. Without underlings, a king cannot impose his will upon the world.”
“A true king does not impose his will upon others, nor have others serve him. He does not think of his underlings as disposable commodities. A wise king is a king of a thousand tears. A king is one who sacrifices himself for the people, not have the people sacrifice themselves for him.”
Ace couldn’t take it anymore. His eyes glowed vivaciously, struggling to contain the laughter about to burst from within. His lips pressed tightly against one another. Finally, he could hold it no more, breaking out into a booming fit of laughter as his hand clutched his side for breath.
“Hahahahaha! I think that might be the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life! A king sacrifices himself for the people? Hahaha! Politicians and the like often say such things to save face, but in the end what leader has ever served the people? The people always serve them in the end, because that is the nature of a true king. Your rants reek of idealism and naiveté!”
Tsuki’s eyes were downcast, her mood sullen. Those words... unfortunately they rang true.
What leader has ever served the people? The people always serve them in the end.
“That is why our world is the way it is today.”
“You’re damn right! I have over forty people serving me, because they recognize my sovereignty. Tell me, Princess, how many people do you have serving you? How many people are you ruling over? How many follow you?”
“I’d rather not have anyone serve me. Right now, I have a few people who follow me. I intend to rule over a nation someday.”
“You’ll never rule over a nation, thinking the way you do. Keep dreaming, Princess. Besides, any nation you ruled would be driven straight into poverty.”
A violent explosion of aggravation briefly appeared on Tsuki’s face, replaced a moment later by an unwavering glare. She quickly composed herself, resolving not to let anger cloud her logic. Nonetheless, if she had to describe the state of mind she was in right then—the one thing that was resonating through her it could be summarized in one word: disappointment.
“I tried, Ace, I really did. Though it seems no words can get through to you. There’s only one thing I can do now.”
After chanting this requiem, Tsuki slowly and purposefully unsheathed her pristine ivory blade, which emitted a pale brilliance, as if sensing its owner’s intentions.
The entertained yet smug expression on Ace’s face had not changed one bit upon witnessing Tsuki withdraw her sword.
“It seems we have very different opinions on things.”
Ace
let a single deep sigh bellow forth from within.
“You know, I really don’t like hitting girls, so I can’t get fully psyched up about this fight but...”
A glaring light appeared for a split second as Ace re-equipped his scarlet tinged scythe. A deadly demon had shown itself beneath the mask for the briefest of moments.
“I can’t wait to crush those ideals of yours!”
“You will never crush my ideals. Even if you destroyed this body of mine, my spirit would still hold true to these ideals for eternity. As for being a woman...”
Tsuki lifted her glittering snow sword up, pointing it at Ace’s face.
“Gender has nothing to do with this battle. When you are on the ground, defeated, with my blade pointed at your throat, it won’t have anything to do with me being a man or a woman, I assure you of that.”
“Very well then, I hope you at least provide me with some entertainment before you die. Don’t disappoint me, Princess.”
The two were currently locked in a tense stare down, each waiting for the other to make the first move. This blonde haired man who called himself Ace wore a self-satisfied smirk. Tsuki could not discern the intentions behind that self-satisfied grin. Normally she could read a person’s thoughts if she so desired, though she usually held back on doing so, as she did not want to abuse that power. In this instance, she had attempted to comprehend Ace’s thoughts, but she was unable to get through to his mind. The only reason this would happen was if he had some sort of mental block on himself.
For Tsuki, this was all the confirmation she needed. Normally, a telepath could read someone else’s mind if their telepathic abilities were evolved at a certain level beyond someone else’s. For example, someone adept in telepathy could read the mind of a novice telepath, and a novice telepath could read the minds of those who hadn’t awakened their latent telepathic abilities, in other words, the common man. Though levels of telepathic ability were not so clear cut, Tsuki estimated herself to be around the adept level. For all of Ace’s thoughts to be closed to her, the gap between their abilities must be relatively small. In other words, he must be at least at the median level or higher. The fact that he was not crushed by the weight of Omni’s focused telepathy was not just a fluke.
The Virtual Realm Page 30