Within the majestic throne room, adorned with opulent tapestries and bathed in a celestial aura, an epic confrontation unfolded between the embodiment of purity, the Holy Knight, and his formidable counterpart, the undead knight. The air crackled with anticipation as our unwavering gazes locked, as our battle of wills raged on the intangible battlefield that lay between us.
The undead warrior, sensing the weight of his impending defeat, was the first to falter, his resolve wavering as his eyes darted away momentarily. Seizing this fleeting vulnerability, he compensated by launching an assault of cataclysmic proportions. With a colossal swing of his wicked greatsword, he unleashed a tempest of darkness, a raging torrent that surged towards me with alarming velocity, devouring all in its path, threatening to drag me into the abyss of oblivion.
I stepped back, swiftly calculating my next move. I lunged forward, defying the encroaching darkness. Swinging my sacred light sword, a radiant arc of luminescence burst forth, slicing through the veil of shadows, and severing the dark storm into two halves. In one fluid motion, I conjured a bolt of brilliant light and unleashed it upon the undead knight, who valiantly wielded his great sword to deflect the onslaught.
Yet, despite my initial assault falling short of its mark, I pressed forward, bridging the distance between us in the blink of an eye. In a spectacular display of agility, I leaped into the air, my sword gleaming with divine radiance as it descended upon the fearsome warrior. The clash of our blades reverberated through the throne room, each strike echoing with the weight of our opposing forces.
With another swing we were in an exquisite deadlock, our bodies strained with raw strength, with the shimmering sparks of cosmic energy. Darkness and light entwined, their tumultuous tango consuming the very fabric of the room as if the throne itself trembled beneath the weight of our conflict.
Yet, as our gazes met once more, a symphony of souls clashing, I faced his obsidian helm, a visage of malevolence, that glimmered beneath the crimson flames of the place eyes that burned with the unholy fury of death. With a sudden burst of unholy power, the undead knight roared, pushing against the very limits of his existence, desperate to shatter my strength.
Determined not to yield victory easily, With a deft twist of my body, I gracefully evaded his onslaught, dancing on the precipice of danger. And in that moment. I unleashed a swift and precise swing, my blade grazing his helm in a breathtaking arc. The resounding clash echoed through the chamber, leaving behind a shallow but significant mark on the undead knight's Helm.
Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
The undead knight wobbled back, a howl of anguish escaping his lips as the mark burned with the searing light of purity.
Fixing my gaze upon the cut in his armor, I turned my attention to the knight himself, meeting his eyes with a steady resolve. "The first strike belongs to me," I announced, my voice resonating with confidence. "isn't that right, Rython?"
The Death Knight raised himself at my call, a transformative shift overcoming him. The wound, infused with divinity, gradually succumbed to darkness, but his demeanor shifted. He appeared calmer and more focused, his blazing eyes still filled with an unyielding fire, but now tempered by a newfound tranquility. Raising his sword, he readied himself for the battle ahead.
One glance at his stance revealed the transformation, a shift from an undead creature to a formidable knight. From this moment onwards the adversary I am about to face was no undead knight anymore, but the legendary Sword King—the very first to grace this realm's surface, a figure shrouded in myth and lore.
He was the one I had come here to recruit to my cause.
Stepping back, I assumed my own battle stance. Though I preferred a measured approach in combat, I was not one to underestimate a credible opponent. I had lived long enough to avoid such amateur mistakes.
And with that, we lunged at each other, the clash of steel reverberating through the air as our blades met with a resounding force. The Undead knight's way of fighting changed drastically, his strikes precise and deadly. But I matched him blow for blow, my years of experience guiding my every move.
The Throne Room around us faded into the background as we became engrossed in our duel, a dance of blades and willpower. Each parry and counterattack revealed the depth of our understanding of combat, the ebb and flow of battle weaving between us. Our swords painted the air with Divine and Dark mana respectively.
Yet amidst this tempestuous clash, something stirred within me, a sensation long absent from my weary soul. In this contest of valor, an unspoken accord materialized, an understanding forged in the crucible of countless battles. We were warriors, intertwined by a shared reverence for the sacred craft of war. It pulsed through the air, palpable to both of us, an intangible bond that bridged the divide.
And as long as his swords sang their stories, resounding with the echoes of a valiant knight's spirit, I knew his flame of chivalry still burned brightly, and that alone sufficed for my heart.
Enough for me to believe that the one I want is still alive, ensconced within the enigmatic depths of that darkness. All I need to knock him out of his sleep.
Suddenly, the Sword King launched a powerful strike, aiming for my exposed flank. I swiftly parried, redirecting his attack and creating an opening of my own. I unleashed a devastating counterstrike, the force of my blow shattering his defenses. Then I followed it with knuckles to his chin, throwing the undead knight back.
"Two to zero, Sword King," I proclaimed triumphantly, my voice resolute. A smirk graced my lips as I added, "Are you awake now?"
The Death Knight staggered once more, his eyes ignited by a potent blend of surprise and fury. The clash of our swords ceased, leaving an air of tangible tension, pregnant with anticipation, awaiting his response. In a fleeting moment, silence enveloped us, as if time itself held its breath.
"Is it still not enough" I questioned, my voice laced with renewed vigor. "Then let us continue this dance of steel and honor, for in this clash, we shall uncover the true you that lies beneath that darkness."