“Seeing as you haven’t moved in several minutes, would I be correct in assuming you figured out my little secret.”

I went to nod my head, but instantly corrected myself. It felt far too awkward to continue the fight, it simply felt wrong to fight against someone with such a handicap.

“Tell me Jai, when we were exchanging blows earlier, did you ever once stop believing I couldn’t match up to you. Even just a few moments ago when I was about to cut off your head, did you lower your weapon and allow me to take your life?” His voice was calm and silent, almost a whisper.

“No.” I stated, with a severe lack of confidence.

“Then what the hell gives you the right to do it now! What, you think because I can’t see that you’ve won? That now I’ll roll over and let you kill me?! Pick up your weapon and fight me coward! You can die with no greater shame than knowing it was a cripple that killed you, and no greater honour knowing that, that cripple will be the strongest person to ever live!” He roared, his voice breaking up at certain words, but it was the first time he spoke with true emotion.

Nothing surface level or faked, but from the heart.

I was disgusted by my actions, nearly considering giving up. He couldn’t have been more right. Though I’d encountered people far superior, not a single one ever gave birth to such an immense sense of fear inside of me. It was nerve-racking and near impossible to stand before him knowing his true power, and for some reason, I thought him being blind changed everything.

It was a vital piece of information, one that maybe I could exploit, but he’d been fighting blind the entire time.

“You’re right.” I raised my Weaver once more. “Let’s do this.”

I calmed my breathing and stared out in front of me. The crowd was roaring in cheers and boos, making an unbelievable amount of noise, but I could not lose focus. This fight could not be dragged on any longer, the outcome would be decided within these next few exchanges.

The battlefield stretched out before me, a wasteland of cracked earth and jagged rocks. The air was thick, like it was waiting for something to happen. Every breath I took felt heavy, like it was pushing down on me. I stood there, gripping my weapon, a massive double-bladed Weaver, so tightly my knuckles turned white.We both stood unmoving, waiting for the other to strike first. For the other to mess up and cost themselves a win, though we both knew that wasn’t going to happen. Either we both moved forward, or neither of us.

But staring at him, it was hard to imagine a future in which I won.

His calm unnerved me. His face was tilted slightly upward, his eyes were now closed. Clearly he didn’t need them to see in the first place, and keeping them open was just some kind of tactic to not let anyone else in on the secret.

Everything about him was far too amazing for someone of his age, much less his condition. His senses were sharper than any normal man’s, his movements always deliberate, like he was hearing something I couldn’t, seeing things beyond sight. It was almost alien, the things he was capable of.

My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing in my ears. Sweat dripped down my face, mixing with the dust clinging to my skin. I’d fought hard to get here, but standing in front of him now, a wave of fear tightened its grip around my throat. He didn’t just look calm, he was calm, as if he already knew how this was going to end.

God look at me, we’d barely exchanged any moves, and hadn’t exchanged any in minutes, but my emotions were jumping from pessimist to panicked a hundred times over.

"I’ve said it before, so I’ll say it again, I’ve seen and shown your future," he said softly, his voice carrying across the wasteland with a strange, detached certainty. "It’s not a pleasant one."

A cold shiver crawled down my spine. I wanted to respond, to say something clever, but the words stuck in my throat. The ground beneath us cracked, the wind picked up, and then, without warning, we moved.

I charged, forcing the fear back down into the pit of my stomach, my Weaver raised high. He was still. Waiting. The moment my blade came within inches of his chest, he moved. His curved sword flashed out so fast it was like a blur, meeting my attack with a ringing clash that vibrated up my arms. Sparks flew between us, bright against the dying light, and I swung again, trying to break through his defense. But every strike I threw at him, he blocked, parried, or dodged. Effortlessly.

‘What the hell!’ I roared in frustration.

He was like smoke, impossible to pin down, always just out of reach. My strength poured into every swing, every thrust, but he met each one like we were dancing a predetermined rhythm. His eyes remained closed the entire time, his face blank, almost serene.

Metal on metal. Strike. Parry. Dodge. I was definitely fast, faster than I think I’ve ever been, but to him, I might as well have been moving in slow motion. My frustration boiled over. I gritted my teeth, shifting my weight and slamming my foot into his side. The kick landed solidly, knocking him off balance for just a split second, but that was all I needed.

With a roar, I followed up with a flurry of strikes, pushing myself into moving faster than I ever had before. My Weaver, the heaviest it’s ever been in my hands, was now a full extension of my body, and I used it to my advantage. I could feel the impact of each hit as I grazed him, small cuts on his arms, his chest, but they were superficial, and we both knew it.

Then he smiled, a small, chilling smile that sent ice through my veins.

“You’re fighting well,” he said, his voice smooth, almost mocking. “But it’s still not enough to beat me, and we both know it. You can push yourself harder, I can feel it.”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. I could feel my heart racing, the weight of his words pressing against my mind. He was bullshitting and so was I. What the hell does he mean ‘you can push yourself harder’, I already felt my body breaking down from the pressure I was exerting. My aura, the raw, volatile power both inside and outside of me, burned brightly.

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Maybe I could enhance myself further, push my body well past what it was normally capable of, but there’s no way that it was sustainable. I’d already put myself through enough, and I was already beginning to feel the effects.

“Show me,” he whispered, leaning slightly forward, his sword lowering just an inch. “Show me your true strength.”

My hands tightened around the hilt of my weapon. The fear clawed at my chest again, but I pushed it down. I had to win. I couldn’t hesitate any longer. If I did, I was dead.

‘Hadeon is this guy stupid or something? What the hell is talking about?’ I questioned, wondering if he knew.

‘How should I know? Are you hiding something?’ He replied calmly.

‘Hadeon!’ I was growing more than just tired of the stupid roundabout answers I was receiving, and in the already depressing situation I was in, his answers were even more frustrating.

‘Fine, fine. You really can’t do anything without my help. He probably picked up on the second stream of Qi running through you.’ Hadeon explained.

‘Second? What second? Do I have some kind of kick-ass power that’ll help me beat him?’ I asked excitedly.

‘Are you really that stupid? I’ve asked that a lot, I’ll need to find something new to say. Of course not! That’s my stream of Qi running through you! How the hell do you think I’m staying alive!’ He snapped.

‘Alright, ok. But, technically-’

‘No.’ He cut me off.

‘You don’t even know what I was going to say!’ I cried.

‘I know very well and I’m not doing it. I already told you that I’m not wasting any of my energy helping you. The more I use up the longer it’ll take me to return to my original form!’

‘Come on! Just this once! Plus you said you’d help me earlier and all you did was tell me like three things!’ I pleaded.

There were a few moments of silence, in which even I reconsidered. It felt wrong to use such an underhanded method, considering the power wasn’t fully mine. But since Hadeon was technically a part of me, then using his Tecz wasn’t any different from using mine. Though I wonder what taking his would change, considering it was Heartiles that allowed for abilities to be used.

‘Fine. I’ll let my stream intertwine with yours, but only for a few minutes. If you can’t beat him within that time limit, then you don’t deserve to win. Also you’d probably die from the strain my power puts on your body, but that’s not my major concern.’

‘Whatever, so how does this work? Do I ask to get a mo-’

The ground beneath me trembled as a much stronger aura surged through my body. A dull hum filled the air around me, and the power, I could feel it building, heating my blood, making my muscles surge. My skin glowed faintly, and the air around me crackled with energy. It was a feeling of pure euphoria and agony.

For a moment I felt almost unstoppable, as if waving my hand could destroy entire cities. My body roared out in pain, breaking down and fixing itself up repeatedly, but the pain was suppressed far too deeply by the power I’d received.

‘Stop fanboying over yourself and fight!’

With a yell, I charged forward, faster this time, the ground cracking beneath my feet. My Weaver blazed with newfound energy, cutting through the air with deadly precision. He waited for me, his blade lifted, calm as ever, but I was far faster now and stronger than he could imagine.

The moment our blades met, the impact sent a shockwave through the ground. His feet slid back, his hands trembled slightly from the force. I pushed harder, swinging wildly now, letting the raw power of my aura fuel my strikes.

And for the first time, I saw a shift in him. He struggled. His calm, composed expression faltered, replaced by something more serious. His body moved faster, his blocks sharper, but I was relentless. My Weaver blurred, slashing through the air with brutal speed.

I pushed him back, step by step, until he finally missed a block. My Weaver smashed through his guard, slamming into his chest with a sickening thud. He stumbled back, blood spraying from his mouth as he hit the ground hard.

Breathing heavily, I stood over him, my chest heaving, my Weaver raised for the finishing blow. His face was still, but that eerie smile crept back onto his lips.

“You think… you’ve won,” he rasped, his voice hoarse, blood trickling down his chin. “But it’s not over yet.”

Before I could react, his aura exploded, a mass of energy even larger than mine, dark and suffocating, engulfing him in a swirling mass of energy. I staggered back, the force of it hitting me like a wave. His wounds began to heal before my eyes, the cuts and bruises closing up as if they had never existed. He stood, his strength returning, his body radiating power.

“This,” he said, his voice echoing with a chilling resonance, “is real power.”

I froze. My hands trembled on the hilt of my weapon. His aura was so strong, so overwhelming, it pressed down on me, suffocating. If not for my added source of power, I would have given up on the spot. His sword shimmered with dark energy, and I could feel my own strength waning in the face of it. But I wouldn’t allow myself to lose, there was no way I would lose.

In an instant, he was on me. His speed was unfathomable, outshining any feats he’d displayed earlier. His blade cut through the air like lightning, slamming into my Weaver with brutal force. Each strike sent shockwaves through my body, my arms burning from the strain of blocking. I couldn’t keep up. I couldn’t stop him. Fear gripped me, harder now, the thought creeping into my mind that maybe winning wouldn’t be as easy to grasp as I thought.

His strikes became faster, more precise, each one cutting closer to my flesh. My muscles screamed in pain, my breath came in ragged gasps. I was losing.

“I warned you,” he said, his voice cold. “You should have given up when you had the chance. But then again, if you did, I wouldn’t have been able to end you. So you have my thanks.”

With one final, brutal strike, he shattered my guard. His sword sliced across my chest, blood spraying from the wound as I stumbled backward, gasping for air. The pain was searing, white-hot, but it was the fear that nearly crippled me.

I fell to one knee, gripping my Weaver for balance. Blood dripped down my chest, pooling at my feet. His shadow loomed over me, dark and suffocating, and for a brief, horrifying moment, I saw my death.

But something inside me snapped. Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was desperation. But I wouldn’t, I couldn’t go down like this. Now after all I’d been through. After all I’d experienced. If I lost now, then Hadeon was right.

I didn’t deserve to win.

I forced myself to my feet, my muscles screaming in protest. My vision blurred with sweat and blood, but I raised my Weaver again, gripping it with both hands. I wouldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. I wouldn’t let the fear win.

With the last of my strength, I charged. My aura flared one last time, burning bright, a final blaze of energy before it would burn out. The Silent Swordsman’s eyes were still closed, his expression still calm, but I didn’t care. I swung my Weaver with everything I had, the blade blazing with power.

For a moment, I thought he’d block it. I thought he’d cut me down.

But my blade found its mark.

With a roar, I smashed through his defenses, the Weaver slamming into his chest with a bone-crushing thud. The force of the impact knocked him off his feet, his body hitting the ground hard.

I stumbled back, barely able to stay on my feet, my breath coming in ragged, painful gasps. The Swordsman lay there, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, his aura flickering weakly around him.

“Tch. I guess I was a bit too overconfident,” he whispered, blood trickling from his mouth. “But worry not, I’ll be back for round two. Just you wait, Cyrus.”

His voice faded, and with a final breath, his body stilled.

I stood there, shaking, my body screaming in pain. But I was alive. Just barely. The weight of what had just happened pressed down on me like a mountain, but I was still standing.

My opponent's words ringed out in my head, repeating as if on a loop, over and over again. How did he know? Who would tell him? Why? And why didn’t he block my final attack?

Questions filled up my mind, but the blowback hit me hard. As Hadeon’s energy began to dissipate, and my normal strength returned, my recovery could keep up no longer.

My head dizzied and I fell back, my only concern being where I’d wake up this time.