Jack stared at the shade, his spear held tight, its tip slightly angled upward toward its head. He’d been standing like this for what felt like an eternity, muscles tense, eyes locked on his opponent. His mind raced, cycling through possible attacks, probing for a weakness, an opening—anything. But even as the shade stood casually, one hand resting on the pommel of its sword, it felt like staring up at an insurmountable cliff. No matter how relaxed the creature appeared, Jack knew better.
Every scenario he ran through in his head ended the same way: defeat. Quick, brutal, and almost humiliating. Each failed attempt replayed like a movie reel in his mind. In two moves, maybe three, the shade would cut him down without breaking a sweat.
Jack’s jaw tightened as frustration gnawed at him. All he wanted was to land one hit. Just one. A nick, a scratch—anything that would show he was improving, that all this effort wasn’t for nothing. He knew he was nowhere near the shade’s level of skill, but if he could just wound it, he’d feel like he was making progress. That small victory would be proof that the countless hours of blood, sweat, and bone-deep exhaustion were worth it.
Hell, maybe if he managed to pull that off, a princess would appear, sweep in, and give him a nice little kiss on the cheek for his efforts. Jack let out a quiet chuckle at that thought. Yeah, right. This wasn’t some fairytale. The only thing waiting for him if he won was the satisfaction of surviving another fight, and maybe the smug satisfaction of knowing he wasn’t completely useless.
But beneath the surface, Jack knew the truth. As much as he tried to suppress it—because the army shrinks and his parents always told him it wasn’t healthy—deep down, he loved it. He loved the thrill, the rush of adrenaline that coursed through his veins like liquid fire. The way the world narrowed to a single moment, a single strike. He’d been that way since he was a kid, always drawn to the heat of battle. The army had only sharpened that instinct.
A grin crept across his face, hidden beneath his mask, but his eyes must’ve said enough, because the shade’s posture shifted. The casual stance it had been holding vanished in an instant. Its right hand gripped tightened on the sword’s handle, the barest clench of its left hand as it steadied itself, preparing to strike. The tension between them snapped taut like a bowstring.
Jack’s pulse quickened, adrenaline flooding his system. His body buzzed, muscles twitching in anticipation. His heart thundered in his chest, but his breathing stayed slow and steady. He could feel the energy building, coiling up like a spring ready to explode. The thrill of the fight surged in his blood, every nerve on fire.
Then, in a blur of motion, Jack dashed forward.
The world slowed around him. The sound of his boots hitting the stone floor barely registered over the pounding in his ears. His muscles screamed with the effort as he propelled himself forward, spear angled for a quick strike. His eyes locked on the shade’s center mass, the adrenaline amplifying every detail—the ripple of the shade’s stance as it braced, the way its hand gripped tighter around the sword, preparing for the inevitable clash.
Jack’s mind cleared in that split second. No more thinking. No more hesitation. This was instinct. His body moved on its own, every ounce of power behind his charge, every fiber of his being focused on that one, perfect strike.
Jack's spear shot forward like lightning, aiming for the shade’s chest. [Precision Strike] activated, slowing Jack's perception of time. He quickly assessed the situation—the swordsman was faster, covering ground with lethal efficiency. The shade was about four feet away, sword three-quarters drawn, and Jack saw its back foot shifting for a hard step forward, prepping for a rapid slash at his head.
Jack’s grip tightened instinctively. Releasing his left hand, he thrust the spear forward, his body dropping low to dodge the incoming strike. His spear aimed up toward the shade's throat, seeking to end the fight before the blade came down.
Then time snapped back into motion.
The shade, reacting with a precision that startled Jack, let its blade fall mid-swing. Its left hand shot under the spear’s shaft with inhuman speed, slamming its forearm into the spear, forcing it off to the left with a violent shove. Jack’s thrust went wide, the spear’s deadly path veering away from the target.
Before Jack could recover, the shade followed up with a brutal upward slash.The shade capitalized on Jack’s brief vulnerability, its sword flashing in a brutal, upward arc—awkward, but fast.
Jack’s body reacted before his mind could catch up. He pushed hard off his lead foot, throwing himself backward to avoid the blade. His feet stumbled, barely keeping balance, but the shade was relentless. The upward slash was already closing in, and Jack’s arm screamed in pain as he twisted to wrestle his spear back into position.
[Quick Block] kicked in just as the shade’s sword moved to clause the gap. Jack brought his spear in, placing his left hand in the forward grip postion an swung the butt of his spear with desperate precision, slamming it into the incoming strike. The collision sent a shockwave through his arms, pain flaring in his wrenched shoulder, but he managed to hold his ground.
Deflecting the blow, Jack twisted his right arm, angling the spear's shaft to the left. His muscles screamed in protest, but the motion was fluid, instinctive. As the spear angled to the side, Jack pulled it back swiftly and launched a quick thrust at the shade’s chest.
The sudden strike forced the shade to step back, its footing shifting just enough to avoid the spear’s tip. Jack used the momentum of the pull to right himself, pulling the spear back to center as he reset his stance. His breath came faster now, the quick exchange leaving his heart pounding in his chest. Jack stared as the shade lowered its sword, bringing it near its waist, the tip angled forward. Jack noticed how the shade seemed to shrink, presenting a smaller target. The stance was deliberate, giving the shade flexibility to respond to both high and low attacks. Its relaxed posture hid the readiness to counter anything Jack could throw at it, making the next move even harder.
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Jack began to move, circling to the left, hoping to expose the shade’s flank. The shade mirrored his movements, matching his pace with the same cold precision. Jack’s mind was clear, devoid of frustration or hesitation. This was the farthest he had ever pushed the shade, but there was no time for reflection. His body ached, but the pain was ignored—he focused only on the fight.
The room around them was large, empty, and unforgiving. Perfect for testing skill, but offering no cover or distractions. No matter—Jack’s mind was sharp, locked on the task at hand. If the environment provided no advantage, then he would make his own.
Without delay, Jack lunged forward, testing the shade’s guard with a series of quick thrusts. Each blow was deflected with ease. The shade’s sword moved effortlessly, redirecting each strike. Jack wasn’t looking for an opening now—he was analyzing the pattern, calculating the shade’s responses.
He adjusted immediately, swinging his spear overhead in a powerful arc, aiming to unbalance the shade’s sword. The force of the impact knocked the blade slightly off-center. No hesitation. Jack pressed forward, thrusting toward the shade’s core. The shade reacted as expected, grabbing the top of its sword with one hand, forcing the spear down and out of the way.
Without pause, the shade followed with a vicious diagonal slash, and Jack stepped back as its blade whistled past his chest. He twisted his spear, aiming another quick thrust at the shade's midsection, but the shade parried, whipping its blade back around with practiced precision.
Jack grunted in frustration as they exchanged a flurry of blows. Each strike rattled through his arms, numbing them with every parry. His muscles burned from the repeated impacts, and soon, a dull ache settled in his shoulder. The shade’s blade flashed toward his head, and though Jack blocked the strike with the shaft of his spear, the force sent him stumbling back, his arms trembling under the strain.
The shade pressed the attack, its sword slicing through the air with lethal speed. One strike grazed Jack’s arm, leaving a shallow cut that sent a sharp sting of pain up his limb. Another slash, this time aimed at his face—Jack dodged, but not fast enough. The blade nicked his cheek, warm blood trickling down his skin as he tried to maintain his focus.
They continued to clash, Jack’s breathing becoming ragged. Every deflection, every parry left him more drained, and the small cuts accumulating along his body only added to the pressure. He knew he couldn't keep this up for long. Finally, after another exchange, both fighters backed off, Jack struggling to catch his breath, his arms feeling like lead. The sting of the cuts on his face and the numbing pain in his arms reminded him how close he was to being overwhelmed.
Jack breathed heavily, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to regain control. His vision blurred slightly from the exhaustion, and he knew he was fading fast. The intensity of the fight and the unrelenting focus was wearing him down. With a final, steady breath, he slammed [Iron Will] into effect, banishing the wandering thoughts from his mind. Only the fight mattered now.
Across from him, the shade stood with that same calm, almost mocking amusement. It studied Jack casually, as if he were nothing more than a curiosity. Before Jack could formulate his next move, the shade struck, rushing forward with deadly intent.
Its sword arched high, slicing through the air as it came down toward Jack’s head. Jack's body moved on instinct—he brought his spear up, positioning the shaft to absorb the blow and deflect it, planning to close the gap. But just before the blade connected, the shade pulled the sword back, twisting its body, and thrusting forward, aiming straight for Jack’s chest.
Caught off guard, Jack had no time for a proper response. With no better option, he dropped his spear and dipped low, dodging to the left and coming up on the shade’s right side. Their eyes locked for a split second before [Counter Strike] triggered, and Jack’s left hook connected with the shade’s jaw.
The impact sent a sharp crack through Jack’s knuckles, pain spiking through his hand, but it was worth it. The shade stumbled back, visibly rocked by the blow, its amused expression replaced with shock. Jack didn't waste the moment. He dove to the ground, grabbing his spear and rushing forward, not caring that it was facing the wrong way.
He activated [Multi-Strike], his body surging with energy. Jack slammed the butt of the spear into the shade's chest with all the strength he could muster, forcing the creature to stumble back even further. Without missing a beat, Jack swung the spear over his head, releasing and regripping it in the correct position as he moved with practiced fluidity. The spearhead sliced clean across the shade’s chest, cutting through its leather armor and leaving a deep gash.
Ignoring the pain in his left hand, Jack stabilized his grip with both hands and thrust forward, the spear driving into the shade’s chest. Satisfaction welled up inside him, He had finally landed a serious blow.
Jack would’ve been celebrated in victory, but the shade wasn’t finished. Just before the spear struck home, it grabbed the shaft with its right hand, stopping the killing blow in an instant. Jack stared in shock as the shade’s eyes flared with rage. With a savage snarl, the shade yanked Jack's spear off course, its left hand swinging its sword in a deadly arc.
Jack barely reacted in time, spinning to the right and yanking the spear free, slicing off several of the shade’s fingers in the process. The shade roared in fury, ignoring the pain as it rushed forward. Jack had no time to think—the shade’s onslaught was relentless. Blow after blow rained down on him in a frenzied barrage, each strike pushing Jack to his limits. His arms shook as he blocked, his bones screaming under the pressure. He felt a pop in his shoulder, pain flaring, but he gritted his teeth and bore through it, refusing to give in.
For a moment, the assault slowed, and Jack seized the opportunity. He swung his spear wide, catching the shade off guard. The force of his strike knocked the shade’s sword out to the side, nearly disarming it. Jack wasted no time, pulling his spear back, feeling the familiar jolt of power surge through him. [Elderlicht Echo-Destruction] activated, a violent burst of black aura and red lightning sparking off Jack’s body. But this time, he focused it all into his spear, his vision narrowing to a single point.
The shade’s eyes widened with genuine fear as it tried to deflect, but it was too slow. Jack thrust the spear forward with every ounce of strength he had left, the spearhead tearing through the shade’s chest, piercing its heart. Red lightning crackled through the wound, spreading out in a violent arc as cracks formed across the shade’s armor and skin.
The shade looked at Jack with eyes filled with despair, black mist seeping from the fractures in its body. With one final, defeated cry, it exploded into a cloud of dark mist, dissolving into nothingness.
Jack deactivated the skill, his body trembling from exhaustion. He fell to his knees, the spear slipping from his hands as he gasped for breath. His entire body ached, his muscles burning from the effort, but he had won—just barely. Victory had come at the last possible second, saving him from certain death.