Into the Abyss

I immediately rolled to the opposite side and got up, gripping my spear with my regained strength. I attentively stared at him, still recovering.

He had an amicable grin on his face.

The most striking detail about his appearance was his short, blood-red hair.

It flared like fire, a presence that seemed to scorch everything it touched.

His calm gaze contrasted with his imposing look. His piercing blue eyes felt so deep, like they went for an infinity beyond my reach. As if his glare sucked me down an abyss.

He also had a large scar, extending diagonally from above his right eye to below the left edge of his mouth.

He appeared to be in his late twenties or early thirties, his arms crossed over his chest. He stood slightly taller than me.

He was wearing a simple white shirt, sleeveless, loose around the shoulders but pressed against his torso. It was tucked into his dark grey, wide-leg trousers.

A brown leather belt circled his waist thrice, and he was using what seemed like low-vamped shoes with the same colour as the trousers.

At his waist hung a wooden sword, longer than the soldiers’ blades, its dull edge marking it as a training weapon.

Small scars spread all over his arms. He looked like an experienced swordsman, and his marks suggested he didn’t normally use armour.

Was he the one who left those cuts on the trees?

“Ver shire~ maraker lhantire?” he asked, smiling excitedly.

Not knowing what he said, I continued staring at him.

After a few seconds, he grabbed his sword with his right hand and extended it towards me, signalling for me to come at him.

He seemed to want to fight me.

I pointed at the stone tip of my spear. He only had a wooden sword with a blunt tip, whereas mine could actually inflict deeper wounds and slashes.

He faintly chuckled and repeated the same gesture from before.

This would be my first duel against another person. Sweat dripped from my palms as I nervously looked at him.

Preparing myself for this mock battle, I began breathing deeply.

I repeatedly tossed my spear from one hand to another while bobbing my head. I bounced lightly on the balls of my feet, my movements quick and rhythmic, readying myself for the clash that was to come.

My heartbeat grew faster.

Seeing me get ready, he slid his right foot forward, sword drawn back over his head, elbows flared.

He was most likely aiming for a quick blow off the bat.

His sharp gaze locked onto my body, following my every movement.

I knew it would be extremely draining, yet I chose to face him while handling mana.

I pulled it around myself, twisting the currents between us. Syncing its flow with my weapon’s movements, I constantly wove it around him, swarming him with shifting currents.

At that moment, his expression and demeanour slightly changed.

He kept looking at me, but his eyes sometimes drifted to the sides, as if searching for something. A faint drop of sweat dripped from the side of his face, glinting in the sunlight.

As I took my stance, he regained his composure and rapidly shifted his sight to the centre of my body.

The moment I pushed my right leg forward, he immediately darted his eyes towards the tip of my weapon.

The fight had begun.

As predicted, his first push was extremely quick, rapidly closing the distance between us.

Aiming for the right side of his body and trying to block his advance, I thrust the spear with considerable force. However, instead of twisting away as I expected, he snapped his sword against the side of my spear, driving it down and leaving me off balance.

The strike echoed violently through the emptiness of the arena.

He raised his sword for a downward cut.

With no time to spare, I extended my left arm and grabbed onto the shaft, pulling it upwards and blocking his blow.

The impact sent his sword to the left, leading me to quickly pull my weapon back and aim my thrust towards his left shoulder.

He shifted his weight to his right leg and directed my attack away in a continuous motion, leaving me open once more.

I stepped back as his blade swept for my head. As I dodged, he set his attack up from the left, but I pulled my spear fast enough to parry it to the side.

However, doing so caused my left foot to lose balance.

He flung his weapon downwards from the left and managed to hit my right leg. I had no time to evade.

I grunted as his strike slammed into my knee.

I leapt backwards, gasping for air.

Despite his overpowering position, his vision seemed to sway.

Instead of going instantly on the offensive, dread dwelled in his expression. He turned to his right and struck at something I couldn’t see.

I took the opportunity and lunged forwards, rather wobbly with the pain lingering in my right leg.

My thrust was easily deflected as he pulled back his sword from his previous swing.

We both began to show signs of wear as we continued trading blows.

Strike to the left. Parry to the right. Block with both hands to the right.

Dust rose with the drag of our feet on the ground.

He was way faster than I expected. Focusing on his position and my attacks while trying to control mana was wearing me down quickly.

I constantly gasped for air.

He was always darting his eyes to different parts of my body, easily managing to predict my movements and counterattack accordingly.

Our weapons met to the side as he twisted his sword to block.

Sweat sprayed as our weapons clashed. My teeth ground against each other. The loud clack rang in my ears. We both breathed heavily.

He seemed visibly disoriented.

Strike. Parry upwards with both hands. Parry to the left. Parry.

Block to the right. Strike. Parry. Block.

I was overwhelmed. His attacks grew faster and stronger.

“I'm exhausted. It feels good!” I thought as the weapons struck. My chest heaved heavily.

He continually took the lead. He fended off each of my strikes.

Whatever approach I used, each hit was smoothly veered away.

Block to the side. Block. Block.

I swung the spear in a wide arc, hoping to force him back, but he ducked under the shaft and closed the gap in an instant.

My feet slipped on the dirt as I was being pushed backwards.

Parry. Parry.

As I prepared to strike, he abruptly scraped his sword against the ground, sending a cloud of dirt and dust into my face, obscuring my vision.

“Argh…” I gasped.

He immediately followed through with a strike, directly hitting the side of my stomach.

I spat on the ground.

I tried to distance myself, but he quickly approached me again.

Block. Parry.

My blocks grew sloppy.

I couldn’t figure out his next moves.

I wanted to puke.

I lunged, aiming my thrust for his left leg, but he stretched his arm and met my spear in the middle of my attempt.

Clack. Clack. Crack.

It sounded like a continuous rattle.

The air was so heavy, crushing me under its pressure. Each of his strikes was followed by a roaring gust of wind.

Vomit rose, but I forced it down.

My head hurt so much.

My vision blurred.

Sweat loosened my grip, and the rough shaft was slipping through my hand.

I couldn’t keep handling mana. The flow faltered, burning my insides until I had to stop, close to passing out.

I panted for air but could barely get any. He was taking it from me. He was taking everything from me.

Block. Parry. Parry.

Block. Block. Thwack. Clack.

I felt my head spinning.

The sweat stinging worsened as it flooded my eyes.

The sun was behind him, making it harder to focus. He was leading me into a harder position, and I was helpless against it.

My vision twisted. He was moving even faster and more clearly. His eyes seemed sharper. His gaze pierced my body, followed by a quick strike.

I wheezed.

Another blow hit me, this time hitting my chest.

It still burned.

Clack. Clack. Thwack. Crack.

I couldn’t keep up. The ground seemed to flee beneath me. Everything looked so fast, impossible to react in time.

Thwack. Clack… Clack…

Cracks spread through my spear’s shaft. I wasn’t going to last any longer.

Even though I had stopped handling mana, I still couldn't evade his strikes.

My weapon was sent flying to the right side after a powerful strike, leaving a lingering ring behind. I had lost my grip, and my right foot slipped mid-stride.

The world flashed around me. I saw hazy green, brown, and bright red hues drifting across a vast blue, leaving a trail behind. I could no longer hear anything.

I had hit a wall. My back was pinned against a hard surface.

The fight was over.

My body sensed it before my mind did.

Next thing I knew, I had fallen to the floor.

As he stood directly alongside me, the tip of his sword hovered just above my neck. The faint sound of his breathing was drowned by my loud pants for air.

His figure hid the sun, casting me in shadow.

I was drooling.

I had lost.

I laughed with a slight hint of frustration.

I had lost badly.

I wouldn’t be able to win even if I focused solely on the battle from the start.

He also seemed to hold back at times, letting blows slide or pause before striking.

I had so much more to train. I was so weak. Pitifully so.

A single tear dripped from my eye, hitting the ground with a refreshing splash.

I couldn’t stop hating myself so easily… I had to get stronger.

The dirt felt cold. The fire in my body had finally dimmed. I wanted to keep lying down forever.

My abraded hand scorched in pain. Part of its skin peeled from the friction with the spear.

If not for the searing ache, my hand felt non-existent, consumed by numbness. The right side of my body couldn’t stop shaking.

In one fluid motion, his shadow delicately guided the blade by its side before sheathing it. He then dropped on one knee and stretched his arm for me to grab on to.

My hand throbbed as he pulled me up. His grip was rough, thick with calluses, marks of years spent mastering the sword.

I was still gasping for air, completely exhausted, but he smiled widely, his head slightly hanging, and patted me on the shoulder.

Sweat slicked his face and arms, dripping from his elbow as he rubbed his temple. He didn’t look as battered as I did, but his eyes showed deep mental fatigue.

After a few seconds of both of us calming down, he looked at me once more with a smile and gestured for me to follow him.