The Duo Duel

The rain beat down on stone and steel, washing blood into the gutters, but the storm was nothing compared to the violence unfolding in the square.

Gladius braced his katana in both hands, chest heaving, vision narrowing to the faceless mask before him. Every strike he had thrown had been blocked. Every counter he had tried had been punished. He was bleeding, tired, and furious.

And the Reaper — that blank, unmarked wraith — hadn’t even changed its breathing.

“You—” Gladius spat blood, forcing himself upright. “You’re no grunt. No faceless soldier. You’re stronger than your damm leader.”

The Reaper tilted its head, unreadable behind the porcelain mask, it raised its scythe again.

Before it could strike, a figure blurred across the rain. Twin blades flashed in the lightning.

Shadow Five.

Her short swords clashed against the scythe, sparks scattering. She pressed forward in a flurry, each blade darting at odd angles, forcing the Reaper to pivot. Her strikes weren’t as heavy as Gladius’s, but they were relentless, one blade covering while the other struck.

“Move!” she barked, her voice sharp.

Gladius didn’t argue. He stepped back, dragging his sleeve across his face to clear the blood. For the first time, he wasn’t the lone cunning fighter against this monster.

Shadow Five spun low, blades hissing like twin fangs, and drove the Reaper back three steps. Then its haft slammed down, blocking both swords at once, the impact jolting her arms.

“Switch!” she shouted.

Gladius surged in, katana cutting a high diagonal. She twisted aside, her swords snapping back to cover his flanks. The Reaper caught his strike, but now Shadow Five’s blade darted past the scythe, slashing across the mask. A shallow cut etched across porcelain.

It didn’t break.

The Reaper twisted, forcing them both back. But they reset instantly — Shadow Five circling low, Gladius standing tall, their weapons weaving together like practiced dancers.

“Defend!” she called.

Gladius braced. His katana swept aside the scythe as it came for her, giving her an opening to strike. She lunged, twin blades flashing, but the Reaper pivoted, its haft intercepting both before a boot cracked into her shin. She hissed, stumbling, but Gladius was there, his katana catching the follow-up slash.

“Switch!” he snarled.

She moved back, panting, while he pressed forward.

Steel rang like bells in the storm.

The group had regrouped and now watched from the inn’s shattered doorway. Corvin held his axe tight but didn’t dare step into that dance. Sai’s knuckles were white around his sword. Eira clutched her naginata, eyes wide, every muscle taut. Mira leaned against the frame, bow limp in her lap, her quiver empty.

“This is insane,” Corvin muttered. “They’re fighting like—like they’ve done this a thousand times.”

Sai shook his head slowly. “They’re improvising. But it looks real because they’re both reading each other. Adapting.”

Outside, the battle churned on.

“Attack!” Shadow Five called, darting in. Her blades hammered the Reaper’s guard, each strike probing, pushing, forcing angles. Gladius stepped in behind her, katana cutting to finish her rhythm.

The Reaper’s scythe spun, blocking all three in a blur of motion. Then it got ready to counter with a brutal over head sweep.

“Defend!” Gladius roared.

Shadow Five dove in front, crossing her blades. The scythe struck, sparks exploding, her knees buckling from the force — but she held.

Gladius slashed over her shoulder, his katana biting across the Reaper’s cloak. A shallow line tore fabric, not flesh.

“Damn it!” he growled.

The Reaper shoved them apart, its silence more terrifying than any taunt. Its blank mask reflected the lightning, faceless, endless.

They reset again.

Minutes stretched into eternity. The two warriors switched roles constantly, announcing each change — “Attack!” “Defend!” — until the rhythm became second nature. When Gladius tired, Shadow Five pressed forward. When she faltered, he stepped in. Their blades never stopped, their dance tightening, sharpening, refusing to let the Reaper claim them both at once.

But the Reaper still stood, untouched save for shallow cuts.

Rain soaked them all, turning the square into a mire of water and blood. Dead shadows lay scattered, their black uniforms twisted in grotesque heaps. The gilded Reaper, now standing at a distance, watched with his arms crossed, another figure steadying him. His mask tilted, amused, as if this duel was nothing but theater for his recovery.

Finally, Shadow Five saw an opening as Gladius had locked on with the reapers weapon. “Switch!” she yelled making Gladius place his hand on his own blade to push it up so the reaper’s scythe flew up a bit as he ducked down.

Shadow Five rolled over Gladius back as he ducked, her left blade catching the scythes handle, her right driving inward. The Reaper twisted, but she pressed harder, angling both blades at once. With a sharp cry, she rammed them home — both swords plunging into its sides.

Steel sank deep, up to the hilts and out the back.

The Reaper took a step back as Shadow five while gripping her swords heaved herself up and kicked it with both her legs, she fell on the ground getting dragged away by Gladius Shadow Five’s chest heaved, sweat and rain plastering her hair to her face. For a heartbeat, hope sparked in her eyes.

“I got you,” she whispered whit a smile.

Gladius straightened next to her, chest swelling.

But the Reaper didn’t fall.

Its mask tilted toward them. Slowly.

One hand released the scythe, reaching down. It seized both hilts.

She gasped as she watched the reaper try to wrench them free. “No don’t you dare” She rushed in pushing the handles back inside Then, with a sudden jerk the Reaper grabbed her wrists, it pulled her close.

Her breath caught.

“No—”

The Reaper’s knee drove into her stomach with bone-crushing force. Air blasted from her lungs in a strangled cry. Her hands let go of the blades, still lodged in its body.

Gladius’s eyes widened.

“Shadow—!”

The Reaper loosens a hand and shot it to her throat, lifting her clean off the ground. Her legs kicked helplessly as it hoisted her high, squeezing. Rain ran down her pale face, mingling with tears as her blades remained stuck uselessly in its stomach.

Then, with terrifying ease, it hurled her aside.

She crashed into the mud, rolling, skidding until her body hit a broken cart. Wood splintered. She crumpled there, unmoving, her chest heaving shallowly.

The Reaper turned back.

Its mask reflected the lightning once more.

Gladius’s hands shook around his katana. For the first time in years, a flicker of something colder than rage burned in his chest.

Fear real Fear.

What is this feeling? why does it feel so familiar?

The Reaper’s scythe rose again in one hand as it pulled the short swords out with the other, its blank stare fixed on him alone.

And Gladius — champion of the village, undefeated swordsman, master of the shadows — realized he was next.