My rampaging emotions were pushed to the back of my mind as my eyes scanned the situation.

The four of us stood in the white-tiled room in sodden silence as the time seemed to pass strangely slowly.

It seemed as though one of us would be forced to take the first move at one point, but neither was particularly willing.

I tightened my fighting stance.

I had no blade or weapon in hand so the second I got into a serious clash I would undoubtedly be skinned alive as my flesh would be pierced and parted.

My senses had vanished unknowingly with the exception of my eyesight.

I soon lost the emotion of control.

Moving my arm merely looked like I was watching a video, not actually doing the action.

It took my eyes another second to visualize the sight before me.

Sly bastards.

Their mage was chanting slowly and quietly. Away from my darting eyes.

I had no choice but to rush now.

Trying to maintain my fighting stance as I charged forwards, I carried with me a horde of world-energy sources.

It felt as though the air behind me was going rampant whilst I charged forward.

The 3 warriors consisting of an Assasin, Swordsman, and Brute lost their tenseness and began their charge of retaliation.

It felt as though time had slowed.

My eyes bounced across the room planning my next moves.

Sword.

I need a sword.

My eyes rabidly gleamed upon the sight of the short daggers in the Assasin's hands.

Just one.

I only needed one.

As I madly dashed onwards, I attempted to get a good look at the hooded Assasin's face.

Yet, all I could see was a mirage of black. His face was enshrined with a multitude of black leathers, silks, and scarves.

He was barely above my height yet frighteningly more professional.

His knives were barely hanging in his hands and should've been easy enough to take.

A strong vortex of world energy marauded my feet as I prepared my old-fashioned lotus step.

My eyes dazzled wildly as the world's energy moved like a twister.

All my momentum slid down into one precise movement as the unexpecting Assassin led his pack.

Fwah-boom.

Like a sonic boom, I had appeared right before the Assasin.

All at once, my senses returned in furious jolts.

First, my hearing returned, causing my eardrums to shake and boil.

Then it was my sense of touch, my fingers felt cold and numb from the return shock.

It seemed as though my emotions had been overridden by the returnees.

But I had no time for such fleeting thoughts.

His raven rags blew backward ferociously upon my arrival revealing two murky blue eyes.

Everything from then on happened so fast that it seemed as though every action I took was soon replaced by the next instantly.

I placed my hand by the handle of the Assasin's right dagger.

An unpleasant chill ran through my veins.

It was as if metal vapor had been emitted constantly by the blade.

It felt as though silver had coursed through my veins and left them runny and droopy.

My balance needed a second to reform itself as I felt my body tip forwards.

My center of gravity profusely shifted along with me.

I cursed as I formed a source of world-energy world energy right in between myself and the Assasin.

Yanking hard on the blade by my right, I watched in calamitous strain as the Assasin pulled and drubbed me for his blade back. We went through a blunt exchange of blows as he screeched for his dagger.

For every fist that made its way to me, another made its way to him.

We were too weak to land a lethal blow but not weak enough to reduce the insuasive pain.

The World-energy finished compressing one last time before it unleashed triumphantly.

Boom.

I watched whilst covering my vitals as the black-robed Assasin was blasted back by the world energy.

His robes became disheveled and shrewd as they flapped wildly and his finger crumpled against the back wall.

I held his dagger as close to my chest as possible as the next attackers soon leaped upon me. The cold aura that it possessed made my back straighten and clench against my will.

The Swordsman wielded a longsword skillfully.

His face was mundane and covered in a stretched and worn leather mask.

I could make out a toned and trained body as a muddled blur darted across my vision.

It didn't feel like we were trading blows.

A blur would travel from my left and right as my blade barely weaved itself into his blade's path.

Sparks flew in unpredictable rhythms as our clash ensued.

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My hands pained at each interaction due to the sheer difference in strength.

My desperate blocks held him at bay but he would get through to me soon enough.

As the blur ruthlessly pouncing upon me became patterned and clearer I gradually started attacking back.

I no longer held my blade close to my body.

Applying a lotus step, I exchanged sword clashes with him for another bout before going for the kill.

A swirl of world energy soothed my soles as I got into a sprinting position.

Boom.

Pulling my glinted dagger against the forces of the world, I missed my target of his heart.

Rather, I ended up skewing off a piece of flesh near his rib area.

His tongue curled up upon this development but our clash continued.

This time I had gained the aggressive advantage as he got more and more docile.

At this point, I was pouncing and rampantly lunging as he clutched his wound with a now crimson-wet hand.

His blade was like an indestructible force as I tried to push past it.

I kept going at it, again and again, yet it didn't move backward.

No matter how many sparks flew and no matter how many quivering faces he made through the mask, his blade remained upright.

My frustration furled as I went for an unrationale attack.

Madly lunging forwards I aimed to get him by surprise yet all I found was a strong wind gust part behind me.

The Brute.

Although slow, he was probably the strongest of the 3.

And now, a greatsword threatened to pummel through my organs violently.

My knees felt strained and tight as I squatted by instinct.

A grey silhouette trailed above me as I ran forwards.

Looking back in the nick of time, his bulky and veined arms had already risen once again.

Going for a side-ways slash I rolled to my right.

I couldn't afford to clash or trade blows with this man.

One swing of the chunk of metal that he was blasting around and I would be a flesh-head.

Every time he swung his sword down, the air in the area next to me vanished. That was it. It was gone.

Swept down by this overwhelming force.

Our exchange was pathetic.

I dodged, weaved, and bent more and more as his strikes became more aggressive and dangerously close.

Soon, the swordsman re-entered the battle with a blade in hand.

Not only was I dodging the Brute with every chance but I was now clashing bouts with the swordsman from time to time.

My muscles which had long been overworked now seemed to have some overwork symptoms.

I found my strikes slower, lower, and, weaker than usual.

I was getting overpowered, overwhelmed, and out-skilled.

The Swordsmen who I had been trading with had discovered my weakness to my dismay.

Using his long blade, he kept a subtle distance and poked out me through the gaps of my defense whilst the Brute waved his sword around unprofessionally.

It was frustratingly effective.

The only sparks that flew now were of those that only pressed me back further.

My mind began numbing as my vision got even hazier.

The only thing in my sight was shining steels of silver ringing aloud as the pain that emanated from around my body was subsided.

I was once again in the position of instincts alone.

A sharp curve of the wind was alerted to me by my world-energy formation being disrupted.

My knees once again broke down as a short silver glint pierced through the spot where I had just been.

The Assasin whose body was now leaping over my last whereabouts face was now revealed.

It was a young man, his face was covered in blue veins that pulsed accursedly. His face was chalk-pale too.

His blade pierced through the spots where my vital organs were with every passing second.

Now I had to look out for 3 different variables.

I wouldn't hold out for more than 10 seconds if things stayed like this.

I had around 4 pulses of world energy behind me.

As the 3 of them charged at me at once, I compressed the four as tightly as possible.

My eyes were shut tight as I formed the strongest compression that I could. I wasn't even concentrating on the method, just retaining enough consciousness to be successful.

If all went right then I should've been able to blast the lot of them with the world energy and use the advantage to gain the upper hand once again.

Alas. A fault on my part occurred.

I had taken too long in the compression factor.

There were no longer 3 silhouettes rapidly pouncing for my nape.

Just one.

A great sword had already heaved itself right above my nape, ready to dig down without a second thought.

The World-energy before me was ready to wreak havoc with but a breath.

All I could see was black now.

And soon I would see red.

Red from the blood that would stain the floor, silently.

Blood that wasn't mine.

Buh-OOM.

4 compressed sources of world energy blitzed the man before them.

A chokehold of blood splatted over the floor as a black silhouette was launched backward.

Despite the use of 4 sources, the blast was not as powerful as one would expect.

He had gone around 4 feet airborne when I started moving, yet he was already losing momentum.

I charged forward, my legs leaping to unknown bounds.

I was right before him, the top of his neck was mine for the takings.

Settling my blade in the wind I prepared a clockwise motion.

It would be swift and thoughtless.

As my blade cut through the air rapidly I felt like something was missing.

Lacking.

Being craved.

Fwoosh.

No contact was made.

My blade had been too low and slow to hit his falling figure.

It had missed by seemingly nothing.

The tiniest of gaps, if you will.

That shouldn't have been that bad right?

I should've still been able to bring it back and go for a second slash.

"Goliath of the Spirits, Casterate this worn Sinner."

A bitter and creaky voice pierced through the tense atmosphere of the battle.

The mage.

The mage was alive.

Soon, a bony green construct rose from the ground before me rapidly. Its bones creaked and twisted as it deformed into a more monstrous abomination by the second.

The mage had always been casting.

From the start to the end.

I had relied on my instincts too much.

I thought that beating my enemies in order would be the freeway to victory.

Yet they had all come back one by one. Why?

Because I wasn't fast enough.

And as I watched the fluorescent green goliath charge forth, its spiritual constructional bounds not holding it back in the least, I regretted my decisions.

I had been a fool.

Holding out my right hand, I compressed the tightest ball of world energy I could.

I could hear a faint squealing sound but I continued. If I just stopped then what more would that accomplish? Nothing.

The skin on my hand began being pulled in by this force as it kept compressing.

The thing before me had scaped my entire view.

I could only focus on the small construct of world-energy forming in my right hand.

My skin was silken, pale, and chilled.

My eyes were blank as my last hope finished itself.

As if announcing its presence, a small wave of wind loosely exhaled into every gap, corner, and slither of the room.

I watched with a blank expression as the Vulgar Celadon Construct before me sent out a heavily armored spiritual hand.

Merely the clenched fist covered half my vision.

But I held my hand out still.

Its vivid green hand slowly rocked back and forth monstrously as if it was preparing itself.

Words barely came out of my mouth as I looked forwards senselessly.

My voice was hoarse, mumbled and hardly a level above inaudible.

"Re-lease."

Pfuaaar. A pathetic weasly noise started those in the room.

Before Armageddon sounded right from it, following that?

A deathly roar of wind discharged. Its furious crashes enveloped the construct before it.

An odd creaking sound was spread and blasted throughout the hollow room.

It consumed the lower half of the abomination before me as my eardrums reached their breaking point. Who knows. Maybe they had already burst.

It continued roaring even after its powerful and enraged start.

I had assumed or hoped rather, that it would have held back the thing before me for at least a second but-.

Dong.

The room vibrated crazily as the air stopped its free-flying.

The warriors in the room could only blink and straighten their eyes out at the sight.

Merely a second ago, the boy had released a deadly attack from his right hand, and now...

The boy was gone.

A struck-out hand had apparated out of nowhere.

It was so lightning-like that their eyes could only fathom the speed at which it had traversed and finished off the boy at.

All that was left of the boy was a silver-glinted dagger that had stuck itself in the green spell's hand.

The green spell soon crumpled into the ground as the Warriors looked around them.

The silver dagger dropped to the ground with a clunk.

The men in the room looked in front of where the spiritual lord had just been.

6 Layers.

6 Layers now had been carved with a boy-like silhouette.

6 Layers of cold-hard rock.

Had he somehow survived?

The group wandered through the carve-outs before reaching the last one and sighing deeply.

The mage spoke first to break the somber mood.

The midnight wind drafted into the building as a city of stars was unveiled before them. Their city of stars.

The mage unwillingly looked downwards, revealing a vast and luminously lit pitch-black kingdom.

It was held so high that one could only see the peeps of shadows from the bottom floor.

"He's gone."

"No man shall survive the fall to Infimus."

(Infimus: Name of the bottom layer.)

The warriors merely nodded sullenly before soon leaving.

Their moods were those of tired workers.

They weren't righteous souls who would never kill a child.

But they certainly didn't get thorough enjoyment from the death of innocent lives either.

But they shrugged it off anyways.

A bag of gold was a bag of gold.

And it's not like the dead could take revenge.

That would be preposterous.

They wiped their minds clean of a certain boy before washing down their thoughts with rum and river water.

And a boy lay slumped, bloodied, and broken at the bottom of Infimus.

Breathing slowly. And dying fast. Holding on barely and losing blood fast.

The end was nigh.