Arthur's laughter echoed through the night as I struggled to keep up. My blades clashed against his massive greatsword, each collision sending tremors up my arms. His strength was monstrous; every swing felt like it could shatter my bones if I slipped up even once. I gripped my weapons tighter—a saber in my left hand and a long sword in my right. I had to be faster, sharper. But even with two blades, Arthur kept pushing me back, his grin growing wider with each blocked strike.

"You think two swords will save you, boy?" Arthur sneered, his voice dripping with mockery as he deflected another one of my attacks. "All that fancy footwork, yet here you are—cornered like a rat."

I could feel sweat falling down from my face, and my heart pounding in my chest. I darted to the side, slashing out with the saber to force his guard down, then immediately brought my sword in for a quick thrust aimed at his exposed side. But Arthur was ready. He twisted, blocking the strike with his greatsword, then drove his shoulder into me, sending me stumbling back.

"Damn it…" I muttered under my breath, trying to steady myself.

"What's the matter, kid?" he taunted, stepping closer. "Losing your nerve? I expected more from someone who dares to challenge me."

I glanced around. Kael was on the left side, locked in combat with many bandits. Kaldor was fighting tooth and nail on the right, trying to keep the tide of enemies at bay. There was no one who could come to my aid.

Arthur didn’t give me a moment to breathe. With a roar, he swung his greatsword down in a brutal arc. I barely managed to sidestep it, the blade slamming into the ground where I’d been standing, cracking the ground.

"Think, Duke, think!" I screamed to myself. I had to find a way through his defenses. But before I could come up with a plan, Arthur lunged forward, his sword aimed right for my chest. I ducked down at the last second, but he was faster than I expected—his boot smashed into my ribs, sending me flying.

I barely had time to process the pain before I slammed into a market stall, the wooden structure shattering beneath me. Groaning, I rolled onto my side, clutching my ribs as I tried to push myself up. Arthur’s kick had left me winded, but I didn’t have the luxury of resting.

All around us, chaos unfolded. The citizens of Sarahart fought tooth and nail against Arthur’s men, their sheer numbers overwhelming the bandits in some areas. I caught a glimpse of a burly blacksmith swinging a massive hammer, crushing a bandit’s knee before knocking him out cold. Not far from him, a woman armed with a kitchen cleaver fended off two enemies, slashing at any exposed skin she could reach.

But Arthur’s forces weren’t going down easily. Some of his stronger lieutenants cut through the resistance like seasoned warriors. A bald, scarred man wielding dual axes hacked down a villager trying to tackle him, while another brute in heavy armor swung a chain, sending multiple people sprawling.

Despite the uneven odds, the citizens fought with unyielding determination.

Arthur, meanwhile, hardly spared them a glance. His focus was entirely on me. He strode forward, dragging his greatsword behind him, the metal scraping against the stone with an ominous screech.

“Still alive?” he mused, tilting his head. “You’re more stubborn than I thought.”

I wiped the blood from my mouth and forced myself to my feet. My body ached, my lungs burned, but I refused to show weakness. “Being an arrogant bastard is not a wise decision,” I shot back, steadying my grip on my swords.

Arthur’s grin widened. “Good. I’d hate for this to end too quickly.”

Before he could charge again, an arrow whistled past my ear—aimed straight at Arthur’s face.

He barely had time to twist his head, the arrow grazing his cheek before embedding itself into the wall behind him. Snarling, he snapped his gaze to the rooftops, where two adventurers stood, weapons drawn—one, a wiry archer with a bow, the other, a stocky warrior gripping a massive battle-axe.\

“Maybe you should pick up someone your size, you damn rhino!” The one with the axe shouted.

Arthur scoffed. “Tch. Just more insects.”

The archer loosed another shot, aiming for Arthur’s leg. But Arthur was ready—he smashed the arrow midair with his sword before stepping forward. The axe-wielding adventurer took this chance to charge, raising his weapon for a powerful downward strike.

For a moment, it seemed like they had him—but Arthur moved faster.

With a single fluid motion, he sidestepped the axe swing and rammed his elbow into the warrior’s gut. The stocky adventurer coughed violently, doubling over just as Arthur grabbed him by the collar and hurled him straight into the archer. The two crashed onto the ground in a tangled heap, groaning in pain.

Arthur exhaled through his nose, rolling his shoulders as he turned his attention back to me.

"Pathetic," he muttered. Then, in an instant, his grin vanished—replaced by a cold, sharp glare.

"But you're the one I want dead first."

Arthur lunged his greatsword a blur as it came down in a vicious arc. I barely managed to parry with my longsword, the sheer force rattling my arms. Sparks flew as our blades clashed, the impact sending me skidding back a few feet. I didn’t have time to catch my breath—Arthur was already swinging again, a brutal horizontal slash aimed straight for my ribs.

I ducked just in time, the massive blade slicing through the air above me. Taking the opening, I twisted my body and slashed at his exposed side with my saber. But Arthur reacted instantly—he shifted his stance, twisting his greatsword mid-motion to deflect my strike with the flat of his blade.

Before I could retreat, he threw his weight forward, using his shoulder to slam into me like a battering ram. The air was forced from my lungs as I staggered backward.

“You’re quick,” Arthur admitted, rolling his neck as he advanced again. "But not quick enough."

Gritting my teeth, I stepped in, feinting a diagonal slash with my saber before pivoting at the last second, bringing my longsword down toward his shoulder. Arthur, however, didn’t fall for it—he caught my longsword with the guard of his greatsword, forcing it upward before twisting his blade down.

My hands burned as my grip nearly slipped, but I fought to hold onto my weapons. Arthur smirked, then suddenly—he kicked out, his boot slamming into my stomach.

As I was flung through the air, crashing onto the rooftop with a painful thud, Kael immediately noticed. “Duke!” he shouted, his eyes widening with concern. He was about to sprint towards me, but his path was abruptly blocked.

A hulking figure stepped forward from the chaos, towering over Kael. The man, dark red hair, was covered in battered armor, his exposed arms thick with muscle and covered in jagged scars. He wielded an enormous cleaver, its blade chipped and worn but etched with intricate, twisted runes that seemed to pulse faintly in the moonlight.

The brute grinned wickedly, revealing a row of yellowed teeth. “Going somewhere, boy?” he growled, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that sent chills down the spine.

He rested the massive cleaver on his shoulder with casual menace. “I like to know the names of those I send to the afterlife. Makes it more... personal. So, tell me, what’s your name, runt?”

Kael’s jaw clenched in anger, but he refused to respond. The sight of this hulking monster, clearly relishing in the violence, only fueled his fury. He drew his dagger, its silver edge glinting in the torchlight. “I don’t waste my breath on the dead,” Kael shot back coldly.

The lieutenant let out a deep, guttural laugh. “Cocky, aren’t you? Fine, keep your secrets. It won’t change the fact that you’ll be nothing but a corpse by dawn.”

With that, the man lunged at Kael with surprising speed for his size. The ground seemed to quake under his weight as he swung the massive blade down in an arc meant to split Kael in two. But Kael was nimble—he darted to the side, evading the brutal swing by inches.

Their clash began in earnest, Kael using his agility to stay ahead of the behemoth’s devastating attacks, dodging and weaving like a shadow while searching for an opening. Every missed strike from the cleaver sent sparks flying as it bit into the cobblestones, the force behind each swing enough to shatter bone.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the battlefield, Kaldor’s eyes darted to where I had been flung away. He could see me struggling on the rooftop, and concern flashed in his gaze. But he had no time to act. The frontlines were a chaotic mess, with enemies pressing in from all sides.

“Kaldor, focus!” one of his comrades shouted as another enemy charged forward, trying to break through their defensive line. Kaldor gritted his teeth, parrying the incoming blow with his hammer before countering with a powerful swing that sent the assailant sprawling. He couldn’t afford to lose focus—not when the lives of everyone here depended on him holding the line.

Back on the rooftop, Arthur’s taunting voice cut through the noise. “Look at your so-called allies,” he mocked, gesturing toward the battlefield below. “They’re all too busy trying to save their own skins. No one’s coming for you, boy.”

I crashed into the side of a nearby building, the impact knocking the air out of my lungs. Pain lanced through my side, and for a moment, everything spun. I gasped for breath, trying to clear my head.

"Still standing? Impressive," Arthur said with a cruel chuckle as he walked toward me.

“Wait,... That scarf,...” he said slowly for a moment. “ Ha, haha,ahahaha. So you were that kid with your dad who fought me a year ago.”

“Finally realize, huh? You should engrave this name into your mind!”

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“I remembered giving you to a group of bandits near the north, but now you have traveled all the way to the central continent,” Arthur said while still having a smile on his face

“We killed the leader” I gave a cold answer

“ You seemed to be a bit stronger than we last met, but it won’t matter. You’re just another weakling, like your father.”

His words froze me in place. My father…?

Arthur's grin widened when he saw the shock in my eyes. "Oh, yes. Your old man. He put up a decent fight back in the day, but in the end, all he did was leave me this little scar." He tapped the jagged mark on his right arm. “The Caddel family—so proud, yet so pathetic. Your mother and sister, they’ll be worth a pretty penny once I take them as slaves.”

The rage that surged through me was unlike anything I'd felt before. My vision turned red, and I could barely hear anything over the roaring in my ears. He’s not getting away with that.

----------------------------------------

But down below, Kael’s fight was just beginning. The lieutenant’s cleaver came crashing down again, and this time, Kael blocked it with his dagger, sparks flying from the impact. The force sent Kael skidding back, his feet scraping against the ground.

The brute smirked, impressed. “Not bad, kid. Let’s see how long you can last.”

Kael, his eyes blazing with determination, responded with a sudden flurry of strikes, aiming for the gaps in the man’s armor. The brute roared in frustration, swinging wildly, but Kael’s agility and precision were unmatched. He refused to be overwhelmed, he danced around the massive swings, striking back whenever he saw an opening.

With everyone locked in their own desperate battles, the night was far from over.

“You bastard,” I hissed, pushing myself to my feet. Blood dripped down my forehead, but I ignored it. My grip tightened on my swords, my knuckles white. “You can insult me all you want, but don’t you dare talk about my family.”

Arthur's laughter echoed through the night. “Oh? What are you going to do about it, little boy?”

“More than you think,” I growled. And before he could react, I dashed forward, faster than I ever had before. My saber struck first, aiming for his left side, but it was a feint—I spun, bringing my long sword down in an overhead slash.

Arthur barely managed to block it, his eyes widening in surprise. “You…!”

I didn’t stop. I pressed the attack, my swords a blur as I rained strikes down on him. Every time he parried with that massive greatsword, I used the momentum to spin into another attack. I could see the frustration in his eyes, the disbelief that I was keeping up.

But it still wasn’t enough. His greatsword came down in a wide arc, forcing me to leap back. Our blades clashed again and again, sparks flying with each impact, lighting up the night like bursts of fireworks. I had to find an opening, something, anything—

There!

I feinted with my saber and, seeing him shift his guard, I drove my boot right into his core. The impact sent him staggering back, his eyes widening in shock.

I jumped onto the wooden railing, using it as a springboard to propel myself over him. Mid-air, I twisted, slashing at his back with my saber. Arthur spun with inhuman speed, raising his greatsword just in time to block. Our blades met with a deafening clang, the force knocking me off course. I landed hard on the slanted rooftop, sliding down toward the edge.

Arthur didn’t hesitate—he lunged, swinging downward in a brutal strike meant to cleave me in half. I rolled to the side just in time, his greatsword crashing into the tiles, shattering them and sending fragments flying in all directions. Before he could pull his weapon free, I surged forward, my long sword slashing across his shoulder.

Arthur snarled, his grip tightening. Instead of retreating, he drove his knee into my gut. The sudden impact sent me sprawling backward. I barely caught myself before tumbling off the roof.

I gritted my teeth and forced myself back up. Arthur was already coming at me again, this time with a powerful horizontal swing. I ducked low, letting his massive blade pass inches above my head, then retaliated with a quick slash to his leg.

"Annoying brat!" Arthur bellowed, stomping down hard. The sheer force of his step cracked the roof beneath me, sending wooden shingles tumbling.

I leaped to another rooftop just in time, landing in a crouch. Arthur followed, jumping after me with a savage grin. We clashed mid-air, our weapons colliding in a flurry of sparks before both of us crashed onto the new rooftop.

I wasted no time—I dashed forward, launching a relentless flurry of slashes. My saber aimed for his exposed sides, my long sword striking from above. Arthur parried each one, but for the first time, I could see it. He was struggling.

“Not so untouchable now, huh?” I taunted, pressing the attack.

“That’s… not possible…” Arthur growled, recovering quickly. He glared at me, his expression twisted with rage. “It’s a pity when a kid with such potential, have to meet me. But it’s time to end this.”

He raised his greatsword high above his head, the ground beneath him rumbling. “Secret Technique: Earthshatter Tremor!” he roared.

Huh? Secret technique? Michael never told me about that? Is this for real?

The first swing sent a devastating shockwave roaring through the pavilion, shattering wooden beams and tearing roof tiles from their foundations. The sheer force of the impact blasted outward, splintering walls and sending entire sections of nearby buildings collapsing in a chain reaction of destruction. Chunks of stone and broken planks rained down into the chaos below, crashing onto unsuspecting fighters and upending the battlefield with a fresh wave of panic. Screams of alarm mixed with the sound of crumbling structures, as dust and debris clouded the air.

Arthur’s second strike came without mercy. As his greatsword carved through the air, a violent fissure ripped through the rooftops, racing forward like a predator hunting its prey. The buildings in its path buckled under the pressure—wooden supports snapped like twigs, entire facades caved in, and massive chunks of rubble plummeted into the streets below. One unfortunate group of bandits barely had time to react before an entire balcony collapsed onto them, burying them beneath the weight of the destruction.

But Arthur wasn’t done. He charged forward with monstrous speed, the sheer force of his steps cracking the rooftops beneath him as he closed the distance. His third swing tore through the air with such ferocity that the very wind howled—a shockwave erupted from his blade, blasting through three buildings at once, their structures crumbling like sandcastles against a tidal wave.

I had no time to dodge.

The final impact detonated the rooftop beneath me, the force sending me hurtling through the air like a ragdoll. The building I stood on collapsed entirely, dragging several others down with it in a catastrophic chain reaction. Massive chunks of debris crashed down into the streets, flattening carts, smashing through market stalls, and sending both friend and foe scrambling to avoid being crushed. A thick, suffocating cloud of dust swallowed everything in sight, reducing the battlefield to a chaotic storm of screams and destruction.

I barely registered the moment my body slammed through layer after layer of wreckage, my bones screaming in protest as I finally crashed onto the hard stone floor below. My vision swam, my lungs burned, and every nerve in my body screamed in agony. I felt like I had been buried beneath an avalanche.

"End of the line, boy," he sneered, raising his weapon high for the final blow.

I was thrown back into the debris in the first floor, I can still hear the clashing noises of the fight nearby. my vision was swimming as I struggled to stay conscious. My whole body felt like it was on fire. I can’t move… Damn it!

Above me, Arthur stood atop the ruins, his greatsword resting on his shoulder, surveying the devastation he had wrought. Buildings lay in complete ruin around him, fires flickering from shattered lanterns, broken walls reduced to rubble, and the distant echoes of collapsing structures still rumbling through the city.

"End of the line, boy," he sneered, raising his weapon high for the final blow.

But just as he brought it down, Kaldor’s hammer crashed into his blade, deflecting it. “Not so fast!” Kaldor shouted, sweat streaming down his face as he held his ground.

Kael appeared beside him, pulling me up with a grunt. “Come on, Duke. We’re getting you out of here.”

I could barely stand, but I managed a weak smile. “Thanks… But it’s not over yet.”

Kael gave me a confused look, but then his eyes widened as he saw what was happening behind us. Sylas, Mira, and a group of mages had gathered on the far side of the battlefield. They had been preparing a spell all this time, channeling a massive amount of magic into a single, blinding point.

“Now!” I shouted, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Sylas and the others released the spell, a beam of pure energy that shot through the night like a spear of light. The force of it slammed into Arthur and his remaining men, shaking the ground beneath us.

Arthur turned, eyes wide with disbelief. “What the—?!”

The beam consumed him, and for a moment, everything was bathed in brilliant white light. Then, with a deafening explosion, it was over.

The city lay in smoldering chaos, but the battle was finally over. The cries of combat had died down, replaced by the faint crackling of embers and the gasps of the wounded. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood and charred wood, mingling with the occasional, faint cheer of relief from those who still drew breath.

I lay on the ground, gasping for air, my muscles screaming in agony as I tried to move. I couldn’t feel my arms—they felt like dead weights after the relentless clash with Arthur. Every breath was a struggle, and my vision blurred with exhaustion. But as I turned my head, I saw them.

Sylas and Mira rushed toward me, their faces pale with worry. Sylas’s eyes were wide, filled with a panic I had never seen before. “Duke!” she called out, dropping to her knees beside me. Her hands immediately glowed with healing magic, the soft light pushing back the darkness that clung to my vision.

Mira knelt down on my other side, her fingers trembling as she reached out to check my pulse. “Duke... are you...?” Her voice was shaking, the usually composed mage on the verge of tears.” There are so many blood dripping out from your head!”

Sylas cried while shaking my body relentlessly “ Duke, please,... don’t die,... “

Because of her shake, I can’t even move any of my limbs, “I’m... fine...” I managed to rasp out, offering them a weak smile. “Just... need a moment...”

Relief flooded their expressions, and they shared a quick look before Mira focused on casting a stronger healing spell. A shimmering wave of warmth spread through my battered body. I could feel my strength slowly returning, my vision clearing.

Not far off, Kael stumbled toward us, his own armor battered and caked in dirt and blood. He looked like he’d been through hell, but there was a satisfied grin on his face. “That damn brute...” he muttered, rubbing his sore shoulder. “He said he’d remember my name. Too bad I didn’t give it to him before I cut him down.”

Sylas, still pouring magic into my wounds, shot him a stern look. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed, Kael. You know that, right?”

Kael shrugged with a lopsided grin. “Eh, what’s the fun without a little risk?”

Kaldor approached next, limping slightly as he sheathed his bloodstained hammer. His armor was scratched and dented, but his spirit was far from broken. He took a deep breath, savoring the air like a man who’d been holding it for hours. “Holding the line was no joke... Thought I’d be buried under a pile of enemies before you guys finished your fight.”

I managed a chuckle, my voice still weak but grateful. “Yeah, well... I think we made a good team. Though next time... let’s pick a fight that doesn’t involve collapsing half the city.”

Kaldor laughed, the sound deep and hearty, despite the exhaustion weighing him down. “Deal.”

Sylas finished her healing spell, and as she pulled back, she wiped the sweat from her brow. “We did it, didn’t we?” she asked softly, looking around at the battered but standing figures of our allies.

From every corner of the city, villagers began to emerge, their faces streaked with ash and sweat, but their eyes shining with relief. Cheers erupted scatteredly, the sound growing louder as the survivors realized they had won. The townspeople, covered in their work-worn clothes and wielding their makeshift weapons, embraced one another, tears of joy streaming down their faces.

A farmer lifted his hoe high into the air, shouting, “We did it! We protected our home!” His voice was joined by others, a chorus of gratitude and triumph that echoed through the night.

I couldn’t help but smile as I listened to the sound of victory. This city, these people—they had all come together, united by the will to protect their home. And we, battered and bruised as we were, had made it through.

Sylas, Mira, Kael, and Kaldor all gathered around me, their faces tired but filled with pride. As we shared a moment of quiet laughter, the weight of everything that had happened seemed to lift, if only for a moment.

The battle was over, but we had survived. And for now, that was enough.