Al engaged in a graceful sword dance, his long sword leading the way. Before him, a colossal octopus with tentacles resembling centipedes and a panther with ominous dark wings awaited. Behind the duo, a woman with the feet of a beast and hairy, clawed hands. "Those must be the final two hybrids and their Dark Acolyte," Al pondered.
He held his stance, waiting for the creatures to make their move. The octopus vanished in the blink of an eye, its tentacle swiftly striking out. Hundreds of centipede-like legs coiled around Al's extended long sword, violently wrenching it from his grip.
"No matter," he muttered. Shifting swiftly, he drew his scimitar with both hands, the curved blade emanating a fierce, crimson glow.
With a swift, fluid motion, Al swung the blade. It easily sliced through one of its tentacles, causing the octopus to retreat hastily, putting some distance between itself and Al.
As if anticipating this, the winged panther descended from the heavens, poised to strike at Al's exposed back. However, he had received a warning from his Stubborn Will's etheric shell and reacted instantly.
Al leaped into the air, executing a nimble twist mid-air. In that fraction of a second, Al's searing scimitar sliced through the hybrid feline's mouth, cleanly severing its entire body into two gruesome halves.
Al touched down on the ground, his etheric shell seamlessly absorbing the surrounding mist. The dark acolyte scowled at him, her visage oddly human-like. With a raised hand, the earth beneath Al's feet underwent a remarkable transformation. The solid ground morphed into a colossal, hand-shaped structure, resembling clay in texture, with Al perched upon its palm.
As the colossal fingers of the earthen hand began to close in, Al's scimitar radiated a brilliant white glow. Swiftly, he plunged his blade into the encircling hand, determined to escape. The clay-like soil cracked and crumbled under the pressure, allowing Al to break free forcefully.
Emerging from the earthy prison, Al found himself on unsteady, undulating soil like a waterbed. The octopus easily navigated this unstable ground, its tentacle slashing toward Al like a menacing chainsaw.
Al was sent tumbling by the brutal impact, a deep gash stretching from his abdomen to his face. His Stubborn Will slowly began healing his injuries.
Struggling to regain his footing, Al could see the octopus hurtling toward him at breakneck speed. In his desperation, he swung his blade blindly and off balance. The searing heat of his scimitar sliced effortlessly through the creature's tentacle, causing it to recoil.
Without wasting a moment, Al drove his blade into the ground. The soil around him gradually ceased its fluidity and hardened, providing him with a stable platform on which to resume his offensive.
But as he moved to strike the octopus, the earth surged upwards, forming an impromptu spike that pierced his foot, bringing him to his knees. "Damn these demons!" Al cursed in his thoughts, summoning every ounce of his Stubborn Will to heal.
Heat Will expanded, igniting the ground around him. Al's gaze locked onto the oncoming octopus, mere inches from impact. Suddenly, flames engulfed the creature, compelling it to back away instantly.
Al refused to grant the retreating octopus any respite and surged forward with astonishing speed. His blade cleaved through another of the hybrid's tentacles, each stroke reducing its arms. Relentlessly, he continued his assault, hacking, and slashing until the creature lay in pieces.
As the last of its hybrids met its demise, the Dark acolyte, recognizing the hopelessness of her situation, turned and sprinted away in a desperate escape bid.
Al wasted no time, pivoting sharply to the right. With a practiced motion, he hurled his scimitar, a streak of radiant light slicing through the night. It stabbed through the fleeing creature with seamless ease, setting it ablaze.
The mist released from the vanquished Dark acolyte was drawn into Al's ring, replenishing his Stubborn Will ever so slightly. He released a long, relieved sigh. He strolled over to retrieve his long sword, musing, "That was far more challenging than I anticipated."
Suddenly, a twig snapped in the nearby woods, the sound resembling a footstep. Al's eyes snapped toward the shadows. "Show yourself! Who's there?" he barked, his tone laced with a menacing edge. His hand instinctively reached for his long sword.
Emerging from the depths of the woods, six cultivators materialized before Al. Recognition flickered in his eyes as he spotted two faces he'd seen a few times at the exchange center. The one at the forefront stepped forward, his words a thinly veiled threat, "Surrender your merits, and we'll consider going easy on you. We might even allow you to leave unharmed.
Al's nostrils flared, and his brow furrowed. "You'll have to come and pry it from my cold, dead hands," he retorted defiantly, a fierce resolve coursing through him.
Without warning, one of the cultivators launched himself towards Al in a blur of motion. A man wielding a short blade infused with a vibrant green hue. Al couldn't match his speed, but he expertly deflected the incoming strike and delivered a powerful punch. The blow caught his opponent off guard, nearly knocking him unconscious.
Undaunted, Al pressed on, moving to deliver a fatal stab to his dazed opponent. However, before he could complete the motion, his arm was swiftly severed by another cultivator wielding a long blade. Al, unfazed and remarkably agile, continued.
Without missing a beat, he seized his severed hand that was still clutching his longsword. In a dizzying whirl, he cleaved through his assailant in a single, decisive strike. The man fell, bisected.
If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
Witnessing their comrade's merciless demise, the remaining five cultivators descended upon Al with a vengeance. Al placed his severed hand beside the wound and channeled his Stubborn Will to mend the injury, preparing to confront the impending assault.
A woman, her hands ensnared in metal chains, acted with swift precision. The chains elongated, morphing into deadly pikes aimed directly at Al. He leaped aside, narrowly evading the lethal assault. His longsword blazed with a searing crimson intensity.
Simultaneously, a man descended from the heavens, arms swinging like formidable battering rams. Al, unable to dodge in time, felt the crushing impact as the man's arms, as unyielding as stone, struck his shoulder, sending him crashing to the ground.
Pain surged through him. "Damn it, if this continues, I won't make it. I need my other blade," Al strategized, his mind racing. With unwavering resolve, he rolled back after hitting the ground, narrowly avoiding the next onslaught. His Stubborn Will teetered on the brink, struggling to mend his battered shoulders.
As Al swiftly regained his footing, he spotted an unarmed assailant hurtling towards him, intent on delivering a powerful kick.
"Behind you," his ring's voice echoed in his mind, a timely warning. Reacting instinctively, Al raised his molten white-hot longsword and swung it behind him, launching chunks of searing metal toward the approaching enemy. A harrowing scream filled the air as the molten projectiles struck the cultivator with the green blade, engulfing him in flames.
Al then braced himself, both hands raised, blocking the kick. The impact was brutal, fracturing bones and sending him hurtling through the space where he had dispatched the Dark acolyte. The echoes of dying screams reverberated in the distance.
Despite the agony, Al's bones refused to mend his Stubborn Will, which had been exhausted. The relentless attacker closed the distance with astonishing speed, ready to strike again.
Al's gaze fixated on his scimitar, only a few feet away. With a deliberate calm, he bobbed just in time to evade the incoming kick narrowly. He leaped and rolled away from the cultivator in a swift, agile motion, closing the gap to his scimitar.
He grasped the weapon and swiftly pivoted to deflect metal spikes thrusting towards him by the metal chain-wielding woman.
The ground surrounding Al was now ablaze with the expanding power of his Heat Will. The stone-clad cultivator charged towards Al, thinking he was impervious to Al's heat.
Meeting the Stone Will cultivator head-on, Al's blade blocked and precisely parried the man's fists. With a swift maneuver, Al identified the first opening and leaped forward, driving his thumb mercilessly into the man's eye. A scream of agony pierced the air as the cultivator writhed in pain.
Seizing the opportunity, Al noticed the man's open mouth and acted ruthlessly. His hot blade plunged forward, impaling the man through the mouth, a lethal and instant conclusion to their fight. The cultivator fell, lifeless, at Al's feet.
"Only two cultivators remain. The captain and the woman wielding metal chains." Al thought as both cultivators stared at him, visibly shaken by the savage ferocity they had witnessed in Al. The intense heat surrounding Al's position made it impossible for the captain, a close-quarters fighter, to approach him.
"Xiujing, take Usama with you and run. I'll handle him on my own," the captain ordered, his voice trembling. But even as he spoke, Al seized an opportunity and attacked. The captain's reflexes proved extraordinary as he evaded Al's blade and retaliated with a powerful kick, propelling Al backward. The searing heat scorched the captain's skin, leaving him blistered and pained.
Refusing to abandon her comrade, the woman with the metal chains pressed on and attacked Al again. Her spikes found their mark, stabbing Al's left leg.
As she swiftly retracted them. Al capitalized on the situation. He grasped the pikes, allowing himself to be pulled towards the woman. The captain, recognizing the imminent danger, charged forward but was too late. Al's scimitar sliced through the woman's hands as she attempted to defend herself, cleanly severing her head from her neck.
The man's phantom seed had been systematically extinguished. Each one snuffed out by the relentless onslaught of a lone cultivator. He watched in horror as the searing heat enveloped Xiujing's body, her form consumed by flames. He disregarded his safety and lunged at Al.
The man's velocity was incomprehensible, leaving Al no time to react. A devastating blow struck Al's stomach, forcing him to cough out blood and fragments of his insides, which sizzled upon contact with the scorching heat.
The next strike was an uppercut that shattered several of Al's teeth. The captain was now engulfed in actual flames and delivered a final, searing punch to Al's face, crushing his nose and sending him hurtling through the air. On fire and collapsing to his knees, the dying man rasped out, "He's all yours. Finish him now, Usama."
Al lay swordless on the ground. His Stubborn Will was exhausted, his Heat Will depleted, gazing up at the cloudy night sky that hinted at the impending dawn. As he lay there, he thought, "He mentioned one more. Is this the end for me?" A solitary tear welled in his eye.
Suddenly, his ring spoke to him, breaking through his despair. "In front of you," it urged. Al didn't see anyone in front of him.
Nevertheless, he raised his arms, searching by touch alone. His hands encountered something solid, and as he gripped it, an arm wielding a small knife materialized before him.
A young man was visibly trembling, his terror palpable. He was about to slit Al's throat when, in a miraculous turn of events, he intercepted the young man's blade.
Al's eyes widened with intensity as he firmly clenched the young man's hand. He slowly twisted his grip, overpowering him and making him drop his knife.
The young man's cries grew desperate, but they were muffled as Al forced him to the ground, hands tightly wrapped around his neck. The struggle was fierce. The man started scratching and kicking in a futile attempt to free himself.
Al's gaze remained unyielding as the life drained from his opponent, from his red face shifting to a haunting shade of purple. He let him go, letting the man cough as he tried to catch his breath.
"Why?" Al's voice trembled, a mix of tears and blood falling from him onto the young man's face.
Usama gasped for air, confessing, "We wanted to take your merits. Max and Vavrinic had heard you were going to attempt a 650-merit task on your own. We thought you'd be too exhausted to fight back."
Al wiped his face, regaining his composure, and surveyed the grim scene around him. "You've achieved what you set out to do. Go collect the C-stones of your friends; their merits are now yours," Al instructed, his tone firm. The young man hesitated, unable to bring himself to face the corpses of his comrades.
"So, you draw the line there? After being willing to do anything for merits, this is where you stop. This is why you lost to me." Al said, spitting teeth and blood out.
"Leave this place before I change my mind and finish what you started," Al warned. The young man wasted no time, fleeing from the scene in haste.