A Journey of Adventure and Battle (Pt. III)

In the darkness of the room, dimly lit by the fading light from outside, Ikuro swiftly raised his sword, ready to face the figure lunging from the shadows.
However, when their eyes met, Ikuro was slightly surprised. It wasn’t a monster or a beast as he had expected, it was a girl.

She looked thin but agile, her dark hair tangled around her face. Her clothes were torn and tattered, stained with patches of dried blood and mud. But the most striking thing was her eyes. Sharp, wary, and burning with a will to survive far stronger than her frail appearance suggested. In her grip, she clutched a sword tightly, as if it was the only thing keeping her alive.

Without warning, the girl lunged forward with a swift strike, as if her very life depended on this fight.

Clang!

Their blades collided, the clash echoing through the silent wooden house.
The girl attacked with speed and precision, without hesitation, as if fighting was second nature to her.
Ikuro quickly realized, she wasn't just some helpless village girl. She had skill. Real skill.

Ikuro parried each blow deftly, but the girl pressed on relentlessly, her footwork light and guided by pure survival instinct.

Interesting… She can really fight.

But Ikuro was no amateur. He calmly read her attack patterns, looking for an opening.

They exchanged blows faster and faster, sparks flying with each clash of steel. The girl leapt onto a rickety table to gain the high ground, slashing down at Ikuro.

Ikuro stepped back, using the moment to counterattack. He swung his blade low, aiming for her legs.

But the girl was quick. She jumped down, spinning midair to slash from the side. Ikuro barely blocked the strike, feeling the force push him back slightly.

Her eyes gleamed with tension. Her breathing was getting heavier, but she continued to fight desperately.

“Hah… Who are you?” she gasped between breaths, her gaze still sharp and full of suspicion.

Ikuro didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he watched her carefully. She was beginning to tire, her stance loosening, but her will to fight hadn't faltered.

She’s strong. But she's no match for someone with more experience.

As the girl lunged again, Ikuro seized his chance.
He sidestepped her attack and, with a swift kick, knocked over the table beside them.

Crash!

The table collapsed, throwing the girl off balance. Ikuro wasted no time. In one smooth motion, he pressed the blade of his sword lightly against her neck, pinning her against the wall.

The girl panted heavily, her body tensed. Her sharp eyes locked onto Ikuro’s, still refusing to show fear even in defeat.

Silence filled the room, broken only by the sound of their breathing.

Ikuro stared at her for a moment, then slowly sheathed his sword.

“Hey, I'm not here to kill you," he said in a calmer voice.

The girl remained wary, her hand still gripping her sword tightly, ready to strike if he made a wrong move.

Ikuro sighed, then extended his hand toward her.

"Relax. I'm not your enemy."

She looked at his hand, hesitation clear in her eyes. Trusting a stranger was never easy.
But eventually, she slowly lowered her sword.

Moonlight streamed through the cracked window, illuminating her dirt-smudged face.
Ikuro leaned in slightly, studying her features, and for a fleeting moment, something about her felt strangely… familiar.

But before he could dwell on the feeling, the girl finally spoke.

“…Who are you?” she asked in a small voice.

Ikuro gave a faint smile. “Ikuro. A traveler.”

The girl narrowed her eyes, still not fully trusting him.

“And you?” Ikuro asked.

She stayed silent for a moment before replying.

“…Sarah. Sarah Eliam.”

Ikuro nodded. The name didn’t ring any bells.
Yet as his eyes drifted toward the sword she clutched, a strange sensation stirred within him.

His gaze fell on the weapon. At a glance, it looked like any battered old blade.
But the longer he stared, the more unsettled he felt.

A flicker of memory, faint and distant, brushed against his mind, like a whisper from a forgotten past.