An Unfair Fight

He didn’t even have a second to think. General Gyria let her sword slashes rain down on him, varying it sometimes with punches and scratches from her many claw-tipped hands. This fight was different from what he knew. It was different not only from the game, but also the experiences of fighting the dragon, the demons, and even Phorok. For the first time since being reborn, Berus felt completely and utterly overwhelmed. He had no chance, and he knew it.

But still, he chose to fight on. As best as he could he defended against the demon’s attacks with his sword, but he could feel his hands tremble under the onslaught. He didn’t even hav the opportunity to activate his skills, as his sword was always blocked by a limb or two. The demon’s laugh rang through the throne room as it slowly and meticulously disassembled him.

I need to do something, he thought. Anything! Please!

“How dare you stand against us, creature? Don’t you recognize your masters?” Gyria hissed at him.

“I am my own master,” he replied.

“You’re a prisoner, and we built the prison. Nothing more. We will decide what to do with you. So don’t be so full of yourself, you waste of manafuel.”

Faster than he could anticipate, she snaked forward and punched him right where his solarplexus would be. For a moment, his vision turned black, only to return together with a sharp pain in his back. He had been slammed into the ground, and the demon held him there with her grip. Maybe he was screaming. If he was, he couldn’t hear himself. Maybe only his soul was screaming, by now.

This was not a game. This pain was so much worse than anything he had ever experienced in his old life, and of course, worse than anything the game could offer. General Gyria didn’t fight him because she had to, but because she wanted to see him suffer. And prolong said suffering as much as she wanted.

It would be easier if he just stayed down. If he pretended like he was done, like he was just a machine like she suggested, maybe she would grow bored and stop. So of course, he couldn’t do that. He had to prolong the fight himself as best as possible, just so Mikkah and Iuria had a chance to flee. Out of the corner of his vision, he could see Mikkah ready her elven blast, while Iuria slowly backed towards her. He managed to pry a few hands off of him, and got to his knees.

“What a good pose,” Gyria smiled at him. “If you bend the knee and swear your loyalty to us, I might just spare you. Or don’t, that would be more fun.”

Berus didn’t answer her, as he had too much trouble even standing upright.

“Our system is overloading,” Ki-Rai said. “We have to go.”

“Not sure how that’s helping,” he responded as best as he could. “How about you tell me to just punch her?”

“Oh, I’d love to!” She let out a panicked giggle. “But I would prefer not to die!”

He got back into a fighting stance. Sometime during the fight, he had lost his sword, and the general was now twirling it in her hands, passing it over her entire body before it circled back to where a human’s hands would be.

“Weak. Pathetic.” She laughed. “Can’t you see how stupid you look?”

With those words, she grabbed the sword. Black blood trailed down her hands as she slowly, but surely bent the sword until it suddenly snapped. Metal rained down onto the floor. Gyria didn’t even look like she was in pain.

He didn’t answer her, but he put up his hands. A heartbeat later she was on him again, punching him without even giving him the opportunity to land even one punch. She was so powerful that his metal body bent under her punches, as she bent him out of shape. Now he was definitely screaming.

“Wonderful! Oh, this is truly wonderful! I want to hear more of this music.”

She kicked him hard enough in the legs to push him back.

“Don’t you understand? You are nothing but a lowly servant. You have no say here. The only thing that’s important about you is the mana you produce, to keep that body running. You might think you’re so tough, that you’re free, but you’re not. We decide if you live or die, and the first option will be worse.” Her laugh was biting. “Only through our grace do you even exist. You should give up, do what we say, and let that despair power you.”

“Never.” He could only whisper.

“What? Did you just beg for mercy?”

“Never!”

He rushed forward. Everyone was looking at him, Iuria and Mikkah included.

Use this moment to run, he thought. But he didn’t have the energy anymore to say it out loud. He couldn’t afford to give them more attention, though.

“I’m not here to serve, or to die. I’m here to support my friends, and do the right thing. I am a holy knight.”

“Hah. You’re a bigger fool than I thought.” Gyria laughed. “And with such a bad sense of humor, too! At least try to entertain me, will you? Show me all the different ways you can scream.”

Once more, he tried to punch her. He knew it wouldn’t work, but by now, he couldn’t see another option. No matter what he tried, Gyria evaded his attacks, her limbs untangling into nothing where his punches would land. And through it all, she continued to laugh.

“So slow! So sloppy! You can’t even fight properly. It just shows why we stopped using faulty machinery like you. You’re nothing but a relic from ancient times!”

“I’m not a machine.”

“Ohhh? But I only see a heap of scrap metal here in front of me. Has your core rusted your sanity away?” With these words, she grabbed his arm and tore it off his body. “I can do what I want with this material. You have no choice. And as soon as we reset that pesky cursed circuit, you won’t be able to do anything but look out of your prison and despair.”

Everything hurt. This was worse than when the dragon had almost torn off his leg. His whole body burned like fire, even though his soul should not have any nerves to feel pain. He screamed, and into his screams mixed the ones of Mikkah and Iuria.

But the laughter of General Gyria predominated it all. It was not a fight. It was simply torture. And Berus couldn’t do a thing.

“Don’t despair! Escape!” he yelled at his friends, through the pain and the screaming.

He had to endure this. His only hope was that Mikkah had made a plan, or that Iuria knew some place where they could hide.

“Keep going! Keep fighting!” Ki-Rai sounded desperate, and her laughter sounded more like sobbing.

“Enough. We’ve seen enough, this bores me.“

As soon as the king said those words, General Gyria stopped. It was clear that despite her strength, she respected him for some reason. For a moment, Berus was simply glad he could take a soul-breather.

“Put the scrap metal and that mechanic into prison. My dearest daughter can stay here while I think of what to do with our wonderful intruders,” he said with a light smile.

Mikkah tried to run, but she was grabbed by two guards, and couldn’t even activate her elven blast. Iuria stood there, looking at the man that was once her father.

“You are horrible,” she said. “Let them go! You have me, what do you need them for?”

Berus didn’t hear the rest of the conversation, if one even happened. He was hurt so badly that his vision faded in and out of darkness. He only knew that it took four demons to drag him into the prison.