As my focus returned to the present, I witnessed the Intruder fending off the Red Swordsman easily, unfazed by the unnatural red katana he wielded. The Knight wore a close-helm with a protruding beak in the front. His left shoulder had a large metal pauldron on it and both his arms were covered in various pieces of protective armour, though none looked overly sturdy and were showing signs of rust. His legs had metal greaves on them, but as for the rest of his body, he wore just a faded royal-blue tabard over chainmail that was torn in many places and linen trousers in a similarly-faded royal-blue. In his left hand he held a pointed, sharp-looking, narrow metal shield, the same length as his arm. It was with this shield that he was blocking every single strike the Red Swordsman sent his way. In his right hand he held a more-than-two-and-a-half-metre-long halberd with a mean spike at the end and a head like an axe, currently protruding halfway through the chest of the Champion Patroclus, who was still suspended in the air upon it, his blood dripping down on the Intruder and turning the sand crimson underneath him. He wasn’t overly tall or naturally imposing, but there was something very disturbing about the Royal Knight not having moved a centimetre and yet still managing to block every single one of the strikes the Swordsman swung or stabbed at him. It made me honestly terrified of what he would be capable of once he actually used his weapon.

The answer to that came shortly after, when the grotesque display of the former Champion had scared away the vast majority of the people in the stands. Even that damn announcer had fled in a hurry, and not one of the attendants nor guards I’d seen earlier had rushed in to deal with the Intruder. I noted that a handsome man wearing a luxurious outfit and with two scantily-clad women was watching the display with a bored expression, almost as though he knew how it ended already.

With a simple flick of the halberd, which must have required an enormous amount of strength to pull off so casually, the Intruder flung the bloody corpse of Patroclus across the sand, and then swung his axe head horizontally across the sand, catching the Red Swordsman in his hip and flinging him into the arena wall, where his broken body cracked the wooden façade before collapsing onto itself.

I let out a sigh. I knew what was going to happen next. So, I got up from my seat, pausing momentarily to rub my sore bottom, and then walked towards the edge of the stand. I took in the arena ahead before jumping straight down onto the sand, which absorbed my impact easily.

Without even giving me a quick look-over, the Intruder immediately charged towards me, halberd ready to stab or cut me down. He wasn’t fast, but his reach and inhuman strength made him a dangerous opponent.

I felt the change in me, as I slowly approached certain death. I found it weird how, only in these situations, did my muscle memory, my self-named ‘Dance of Death’, take over.

I put a hand on my sheath and my sword handle, and charged towards the Intruder, immediately flinging myself out of the way of his incoming sweep, then jumped over the long handle as he stabbed the pointed end at me, and came further within his reach, the place where my weapon would shine. My breathing was quickly starting to become laboured, thanks to the increased weight of the substitute sword and the exertions of the previous fights, but my body pushed on, already accustomed to the different blade in my hands.

The Intruder slammed his weapon at me, but I let loose a barely-charged Quick Draw, which caught the side of the long metal handle perfectly and flung it out of the way with a metallic percussion, then I stormed under his defences and aimed a jab at his throat, but his shield caught it just in time. I spun around him with the momentum and carved a deep groove up the side of his leg, spattering blood onto the sand. The smell that emerged made me want to gag, and when I took a quick glance at the blood on my blade, after dodging out of reach of his halberd, I saw that it was very dark, almost purple, and let off the putrid stench of rot.

It’s the same as that of the Knight’s corpse in Silt… I have a bad feeling about this…

Something was off about this opponent, but I lunged back into the fray once more, pushing the unease from my mind. His attack pattern was already repeating itself, and I did a jumping summersault over his first sweep, then used my blade to partially deflect the follow-up swing sent my way. Once more within reach, I moved past his shield and used my Lacerate to cut deeply into his unprotected side, scattering more of the pungent rotten blood onto the sand.

A normal opponent would’ve died or been mortally injured at this point, but instead the Intruder cast away his shield and gripped his halberd with both hands. An unnatural darkness exploded from his body and sent me sprawling backwards across the sand.

When I got to my feet again, the darkness had inhabited his weapon and covered the parts of his body I’d damaged. It seemed this was the second phase of this fight, triggered by the mortal wound I’d inflicted. Considering I was already dangerously close to completely exhausting myself, I prayed that there wouldn’t be a third phase as well.

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

With the darkness flaring around his body, the Forlorn Intruder took a single step forward and swung his halberd in the air before him. I was well out of reach, and so didn’t react until it was too late. From the axe head came a wave of shadow that rushed across the sand with the speed of the wind. It caught me right along the ribs and again sent me sprawling backwards across the sand, until the wall of the arena caught me and broke in half, the top half tilting on top of me.

This time I didn’t get up immediately. My body felt heavy. I pivoted the broken wall off of me and tried to stand, but collapsed. I tried again, before collapsing once more and vomiting out bile and transparent liquid. Distantly, I realised I hadn’t eaten since yesterday. I felt pathetic. It hurt so bad I wanted to cry.

Halfway across the arena, the Intruder took another step and slammed his halberd into the ground, sending forth a pulsing black wave.

I somehow managed to throw myself out of the way just in time as the black wave raced across the sand and tore the cracked wall in half, continuing on into the stands, shattering the chairs, banners, and ruining its structural integrity to the point that it started leaning dangerously, teetering on collapse.

For a third time, I tried to stand, and this time managed, though only by supporting myself against the broken wall. My legs were shaking like crazy, my muscles felt like jelly, and my breathing was quick and shallow. The edges of my vision were slowly darkening and when I looked at my fingers, I saw that my skin was a light shade of purple. Somehow his attack had corrupted me.

I don’t want to lose my memories again! I yelled in my mind, feebly attempting to ward off the darkness in my vision.

Something landed in the sand next to me, and I looked up to see the Captain. He gave me a quick smile, then equipped his helmet, fastened the straps, and charged towards the Intruder. A few seconds later, the Sword Dancer jumped into the arena as well, not sparing a moment before also setting off towards the shadowy opponent. I wondered if the Tower Guard would also have come to my aid had I not killed him. The thought made me slightly regretful.

They’re just fabrications, I thought to myself, but I have to help them. Without me, they’ll die. Without them, I’ll probably also die…

I pulled up my inventory and thumbed the cork stopper from the healing flask in my hand, before swallowing its contents in a single gulp. A familiar feeling of warmth flowed through my body, soldering my cracked ribs together and returning them to their place. The skin that the sand had scraped off knitted itself shut like little strings in a sweater and the dark edges of my vision were pushed away until they disappeared. I looked at my fingers just in time to see my usual skin colour return.

Pushing myself off the wall, I chased after my newfound allies, who were currently struggling to get in reach to do any damage. The transformed Intruder was proving himself capable of fighting several opponents at once, and even made Captain Tabian’s moves look apprehensive. Granted, I couldn’t see his face, so for all I knew he might be enjoying the challenge, since that seemed his wont.

Without any communication, we situated ourselves in a triangle pattern around our foe, and when next he swung his halberd, I hit the handle just below the axe head with a moderately-charged Quick Draw, producing a reverberating clang of metal-on-metal. For a moment, the halberd was sent into the air, and both Tabian and the Sword Dancer used the opportunity to rush in. Tabian carved through the worn and rusted chainmail, cutting off the bottom of the blue tabard while also severing several chain links and gouging a deep line into the Intruder’s chest, while the Sword Dancer jabbed both blades into his neck.

When we all thought him dead, the Intruder exploded with darkness for a second time, which sent the Captain and the Dancer tumbling head-over-backwards through the sand. They both got up almost immediately, but with both his swords still stuck in the Intruder’s neck, the Sword Dancer was left defenceless as the halberd cleaved towards him, catching him just below the ribs and cutting him cleanly in half, the rent flesh slowly becoming purple with the strange rot inflicted by the shadowy Knight’s unnatural weapon. Without pause, the halberd was then swung my way, forcing me to drop to the sand as a wave of darkness passed overhead. Without a second to spare, I rolled out of the way as the axe head slammed down towards me again.

As I rolled out of the way, I caught a glimpse of the Captain using the momentary distraction to close the distance and jab his blade into the side of the Intruder, burying it up to the hilt. His attention no longer fixed on me, I got up and charged in as well, just in time to see Tabian block the halberd shaft with his hands and hearing the audible crunch of bones, but, despite the broken bones, he held on tight. He was weaker than the corrupted Royal Knight, but better armoured and somehow managed to hold his weapon in a lock, though I doubted he could last long, what with both hands smashed within his gauntlets...

I didn’t spare a moment of this opportunity granted to me and hammered my own blade straight through the heart of the Intruder, severing several more links of chainmail in the process. Then I grabbed the two curved swords still protruding from his neck and pulled them past each other, like a scissor snapping shut, chopping off his head and casting his lifeless body into the sand, the shadows on him fading away, and the vile blood once again oozing freely from his many deep wounds.

With a grunt of effort, I pulled my own sword free from the dead Intruder’s chest, and then Tabian’s. As I handed it to him, he grabbed it awkwardly, most of his fingers clearly broken or bent backwards within his twisted metal gauntlets. He looked at his hands for a moment and then laughed. I laughed too.

What a disturbing sight it must have been.