Chapter 9: Tasting the blade

Looking at you, I only see a reflection of myself

The air was tense, with all parties standing ready with their weapons. Any movement would trigger the movements of all other parties involved; it felt as if even the breathing had stopped for everybody involved. The goons of Bran Tren didn’t dare to move or even lift a finger; they had not moved since their boss had taken up his club. The only thing that had been moving during this time was the eyes of everybody around the campfire. Everybody was calculating the next ten, hundred or even thousand steps of what the enemy would do. The grip on Chairo’s halberd became tighter, but there was still no movement.

During this time, there was a single drop of fluid at the edge of the bottle of liquor, one of the goons was about to fall on the ground. It was taking its time, as every other fluid does; it was slowly but surely still sitting on the edge of the bottle. The bottle didn’t want to let go of this drop of fluid, knowing what the consequences would be. This one little detail in the environment of the fighters was the only thing changing over the seconds that felt like ages. Everyone respected the single drop about to fall to the ground. As a hare that points out its ears when it hears a hunter, the breathing of a fox stopping before lunging on their prey, that is how everybody felt at that moment. Suddenly, the drop fell for regular humans; it felt as if there was only an instant in between the fluid being at the edge of the bottle and the little drop of liquor falling on the ground, but it wasn’t for this fighter. A thousand fights had happened inside their heads by the time the drop fell on the ground, a thousand possibilities, a thousand outcomes, a thousand ways to survive. Right before this drop fell on the ground, all the attention it had from all parties involved got lost. They all looked at each other, waiting to hear the sound of the drop of fluid falling on the ground.

The sound this droplet made was astounding; it felt so insignificant, a drop of fluid falling on the ground. Something even a regular human wouldn’t hear, an animal that had to hunt and flee to survive would listen to it; it wouldn’t only hear it, it would be astounding. The droplet falling on the ground made the same noise as the gong makes to start the fight between official fighters. The moment the droplet fell on the ground, everybody went into action.

Chairo jumped through the campfire to attack Bran immediately. She pointed her blade towards his throat, even though she couldn’t reach it. Bran, on the other hand, did the complete opposite; he readied his club above his head to smash it at the campfire while he saw Chairo lunging at her. The brothers, instinctively from the other fights they had spent with each other, knew what they had to do. Chavi went to the left to take care of all the goons on his own, freeing a path for fighting to protect his sister. Chore went on the right of the campfire, taking care of anyone or anything there that would be an obstacle to their beloved sister. The goons, obviously slower than these top fighters, just got their hands on the weapons and understood what was happening. Still, they were faster than Srishta, who had little to no fighting experience. He barely registered what had happened, and all the movements he saw were going on at the same time. He had to get out of the way or he would get smashed by Bran Tren; he had no time to reach for his weapon, which he had hidden away in a piece of clothing. He lunged towards the right of the campfire to dodge the smash of Bran Tren.

Bran Tren smashed the ground; it felt like an earthquake, no… It was an earthquake. Chavi on the left lost his footing due to the small-scale earthquake and it caused him to lose his footing which created an opening for an enemy goon to strike away at the opening. Chavi’s sword was in his left hand; he had just decapitated one of the goons. He was wide open; he was about to lose his right hand due to this miscalculation. The earthquake was way bigger than what he expected it to be. The goons knew how hard a smash was from their boss and were thus better mentally prepared for it.

Chore on the right of the campfire also lost his footing, but he had calculated it beforehand and thus was a bit further from the soldiers, without decapitating one already. This caused him to be out of the range of the goons; he was wide open, but there was nobody to strike him. From where he was, he couldn’t see through the campfire and see his brother having a problem, or else he would have definitely come as fast as possible to give support, even if it wouldn’t have helped. At this point, helping each other out in a fight is more of an instinct than active thinking.

Chairo, wonderfully enough, landed on top of the club she had just dodged and jumped back on it. Facing Bran Tren directly, she went for the head. Bran Tren was wide open due to his attack utilising both of his hands. His club was now on the ground with both of his hands around it. It would take time to get his club off the ground and attack again, and it would be too dangerous just to take his hands off his club. He knew this woman would undoubtedly be the end of him if he lost track of his weapon. There was a split second of decision-making in his head, and he had to decide what the next attack would be. He went for a headbutt; he definitely would get hurt as she pointed her halberd directly at him, but it was better than getting his throat cut. Chairo did not expect it and suddenly felt like a rock had smashed her, it was his head. She could’ve gone for the kill, but instead of that, she used her halberd as an in-between shield. If she went for the kill, there is a great chance she would have died. Her decision was pure instinct; the direct smash towards her whole body pushed her through the campfire again and made her fall on the ground right at the tip of the club.

While the head smash was happening, Srishta could see what was happening on the left side of the campfire; he just didn’t go far enough right to be at the other side of the campfire, where Chavi was. If he didn’t act now, Chavi would lose his right arm. This would likely lead to him losing the fight and possibly dying here, causing them to face more issues with additional goons trying to kill them while Bran Tren attacks Chairo head-on. He used his weapon for the first time, aiming at the attacker's hand and trying to strike the open side of Chavi.

Suddenly, as a miracle. A rock flew through the campfire from the other side, striking the attacker's arm that was about to cut off his right arm. It took off his left arm cleanly, and his right arm had loads of pain. Chavi had no clue what weapon would cause this or if this was pure dumb luck, and a rock actually saved his life. He saw the confusion in the eyes of his attacker and immediately went for the kill, with his right hand still intact. He went for the head, cutting it cleanly off, and going for the other goons.

Chairo was very much hurt after that last attack; she was unsure if she could attack again. She definitely broke a few bones there. She started feeling rumbling inside of her halberd; it was the feeling she had last time when she got transported into the inner world of the halberd. It was similar, yet so different; it was vibrating much harder this time. While she was looking at her halberd, Bran Tren took up his club and was about to do the same attack. Chairo knew what to do this time.

Chore continued the fight on his side, unaware of the massive hog approaching him. They had completely forgotten Bran Tren’s pet. He came charging at Chore and the goons. Chore lunged to the right to dodge the charge. The goons, not noticing the hog because it came from behind them, were immediately killed by the giant hog walking and charging over them. Srishta came right face-to-face with the hog. He knew what his enemy was going to be. He readied his slingshot with the floating rock he had found, carefully curated the best pieces of it and threw it at the eyes of the hog, it was an insane hit, ideally in the middle of the eye. The hog, absolutely losing his mind over this due to the pain, started rampaging around, attacking around him without any indifference, which pushed away Bran Tren and made him miss his attack on Chairo. Chore immediately went to the legs of the hog and tried cutting them down one by one to make him immobile. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to pierce through that rough skin with the blade he had.

Chavi took care of his plethora of goons on his side and was now focused on the fight the rest had; he couldn’t intervene. He knew that if he did, he would interrupt their plans. He completed his task successfully; now it was his time to reflect and wait for the right moment to offer support.

Chairo looked at Bran Tren losing his focus and went straight at him to pierce his heart with her halberd, it did not work. Her blade did not pierce deep enough, nor was she strong enough to get it in fully. She fell back and retreated by a few steps, she knew that this blade wouldn’t be sufficient to take care of him in her state at the moment but she remembered what her halberd told her.

“COME, NAYOTAKE I NEED YOUR HELP,” suddenly, as if a massive wave of air came from Chairo, the entire arena of their fight got pushed back due to a giant force coming upon Chairo, her blade had changed, it wasn’t a halberd anymore, it had become a spear, as massive one it became bigger in size. It was jet black as if the night itself had given its colour to the blade. She went right through for a second attack, this time more powerful and faster. She went right through Bran Tren’s heart, coming to the other side. Bran Tren fell down and lay there with no heart. He fell right on the campfire, stomping out the fire.

During this time, Srishta and Chore had taken care of the giant hog and the rest of the goons.

This battle had ended. With them victorious.