Alex's determination never wavered, even as the hall descended into chaos. His stance remained steadfast, eyes locked onto the being on the throne, like a hunter fixated on its prey. He refused to lower his guard, still waiting for a response to his challenge.
As if it sensed his resolve, the being rose from the throne. Instantly, the hall returned to its original state of peace, with all the life Alex could perceive swaying gently.
The silver being, adorned with darkness and thorns, began to descend the stairs. Bloodstains appeared behind it. [Is it bleeding? That robe makes it hard to discern its physical state] Alex thought. He wasn't disappointed, though; any information he could gather before the duel would benefit him later.
As he continued to watch intently, he saw life blooming from the blood, with flowers appearing on the stairs. [Could this be life magic? I read about it in history books and saw it mentioned in the mission information since fairies excel at using it ] Alex felt his confidence growing stronger.[As expected, it's a magic user. This should make things less complicated]
Given that magicians generally lacked prower in close combat, and considering the inherently slothful nature of fairies, Alex saw an opportunity to exploit this weakness.Confident in his superior physical strength and weapon art skills, he couldn't foresee the being besting him in a direct confrontation.
His thoughts began to wander, envisioning the immense knowledge and power that would be his if he emerged victorious. The allure of such potential rewards caused envy to rot deeper in his soul as he felt himself closer to achieve the next step of his path
However, as these thoughts threatened to overwhelm him, Alex was abruptly brought back to reality by the being's voice
"O valiant knight, alas, no name can I bestow upon thee, yet thou mayst call me Gracefell. Upon mine honor as the sovereign of this forest, Alex Lionheart, I accept thy challenge to duel, but first-"
It was a voice steeped in dignity and pride, echoing through the hall with an almost tangible presence. The words carried a weight that demanded attention.
[Gracefell? Damn it, that's such a cool name man ] Alex thought, admiring the choice of naming. But before he could fully process his admiration, the flowers that had bloomed on the stairs began to glow, coalescing in Gracefell's palm and transforming into a sword.
Gracefell took a stance, his movements fluid and deliberate. For a fleeting moment, a look of nostalgia flickered in his silver eyes, hinting at memories of past long gone.But the moment was brief, and his expression sharpened once more as he resumed speaking
"- Blood, the emblem of life, and through it shall it flourish. O' blood become my blade."
In that moment, Alex experienced the most immense surprise of his short life, his shock so overwhelming that he couldn't control his facial expression. He even began to entertain the thought that he might have been cursed before embarking on this mission. [Could it be that spending all this time with Mirai and Edward has scrambled my brain?] he wondered.Casting his gaze toward his two companions.
Alex saw his leader, Mirai, quickly avoid eye contact. He began to whistle nonchalantly, pretending not to notice Alex's bewildered look. In stark contrast, Edward, the haughty elf, met Alex's eyes with a confident smirk. He gave a thumbs up and murmured in a low voice, "You can do it, Mister Third."
The casual encouragement from Edward, coupled with Mirai's avoidance, only added to Alex's confusion. He couldn't help but feel resentful, But these emotions weren't directed at Mirai or Edward; they were directed inward, at himself. Hadn't he challenged Gracefell to a duel because he thought he had recognized his own shortcomings? Hadn't he staked his honor on this fight? He knew he was looking for someone else to blame for his own foolishness, but now there was no turning back. He was inferior. He was oblivious. And now, he was resentful of his own self-doubt.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Alex didn't want to become the person Mirai, Edward, or even Gracefell were . He wanted to be as good as them, but in striving for that, he had lost sight of his own self as envy blinded him.
Yet, back home, wasn't he the coolest person in the eyes of his younger brother, who always looked up to him? How could he face him if he cowered in this moment?
He couldn't afford to fail—not without giving it everything he had. He straightened his posture, pushing aside the doubts that had plagued his heart. He might resent himself later, but right now, he was focused solely on winning this duel.Alex gripped his spear tightly as lightning crackled and surged around his spear, his eyes narrowing with fierce determination. "I'm sorry for keeping you waiting, Gracefell. Here I come."
And with that, a fierce battle erupted.
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With a powerful thrust, Alex launched himself forward, the air shimmering with the intensity of his attack.
This wasn't Alex's first time battling a swordsman. He quickly recognized that Gracefell was employing only the basics of swordsmanship. Yet, through his stance and the way he held his sword, those fundamentals were executed with such refinement that finding an opening seemed nearly impossible. But that didn't mean Alex couldn't create one.
Alex moved with the swiftness of lightning, his spear darting and slicing through the air, while Gracefell countered with a grace and precision that seemed almost unnatural.
Gracefell's technique, while seemingly simple, was honed to a razor's edge, each movement precise and efficient. Alex's keen eyes analyzed every shift in Gracefell's posture, every subtle flick of the wrist. He could see the potential vulnerabilities, the split-second moments where an opportunity could be forced.
[ It's strange. His body moves even before his eyes can react to my attacks. It's like a puppet being controlled by invisible strings] his mind racing as he observed Gracefell's movements
With a deep breath, Alex began to weave his attacks, feints, and thrusts in a fluid dance, testing Gracefell's defenses. The air crackled with energy as Alex's spear clashed against the silver, ethereal blade, sparks flying with each impact. He moved with relentless determination, each strike a calculated attempt to disrupt Gracefell's rhythm and expose a flaw in his seemingly perfect defense.
Gracefell's reactions were unnervingly precise, his body seemingly anticipating Alex's every move with a fluidity that defied common sense. It was as if some unseen force guided him, allowing him to counter and evade with an almost preternatural grace. Each time Alex thought he had found an opening, Gracefell would seamlessly adjust, blocking or dodging in a way that seemed both effortless and automatic.
The duel became a test of not just strength, but of wits and strategy. Alex knew that victory would not come easily, but he was prepared to push beyond his limits to find that one decisive moment where he could turn the tide in his favor.
Plip plip plip
As Alex glanced down at the floor, he noticed blood scattered everywhere, forming a trail that led directly to Gracefell. [I get it—it's the thorns controlling his body. They must be hidden under the robe, masked by that darkness] he thought, piecing together the puzzle.
To confirm his suspicion, Alex resumed his attacks with renewed vigor, this time aiming to make direct contact. With a swift, calculated move, he landed a powerful kick on Gracefell's body. The impact sent a jolt through Alex's leg,and he felt the unmistakable sensation of the thorns beneath the robe, luckily he wasn't hurt due to his armour
[I see. It's a battle of endurance, Though I'm at an advantage-I haven't taken any damage. Also I've been targeting his blade, and it's on the brink of breaking. His body is already bleeding heavily from his own actions. This is my chance ]
As the duel raged on, lightning crackled around Alex's spear. He knew this was his best opportunity to end the fight once and for all. This was his trump card: a spear of lightning blessed by the king himself. Channeling the remaining mana in his body, the spear began to glow with an intense, blinding light.
With a powerful thrust, Alex's lightning-infused spear met Gracefell's blade. The impact shattered the sword into a thousand pieces. Alex felt a surge of triumph, ready to press his advantage. But his celebration was cut short as the shards of the blade reformed to its original state of blood, morphing into a mass of bloody thorns that ensnared his spear and sent it flying from his grasp.
Before Alex could fully process what had happened, Gracefell closed the distance in a heartbeat. A punch landed squarely on Alex's face, the force of it sending him staggering backward.
Both combatants, exhausted and disarmed, locked eyes with unyielding resolve. Their blue and silver eyes shimmered with determination as Alex chuckled, beginning to dismantle his armor with a wry smile.
"The traditional way it is,"he remarked, a faint smile crossing Gracefell's lips in agreement to him as the thorns around him fell to the ground.They squared off, fists raised, closing the distance between them with measured steps.
Gracefell seized the initiative, launching a head kick towards Alex, who anticipated the move and caught his leg, but not before Gracefell landed another swift blow to his face. "Damn it, damn it, damn it," Alex cursed inwardly, frustration mounting as he felt wronged to get hit on his handsome face twice in a row. He gripped Gracefell's leg tightly and slammed him forcefully to the ground.
Any semblance of grace and honor that once marked their combat had dissolved, replaced by raw determination akin to back-alley thugs. The watching knights observed in hushed suspense, anticipating the outcome of this intense duel, while Mirai and Edward cheered loudly from the sidelines, exchanging bets .
As the duel neared its climax, Gracefell accelerated towards Alex, grounding himself with impressive speed. Alex, sensing an opportunity, attempted a retaliatory kick aimed at Gracefell's face in hope to return the favor, only to fall into yet another trap.
Within an instant, Gracefell dodged the attack and swiftly maneuvered behind Alex, securing a tight hold around the knight's waist with both hands.
In the blink of an eye, Alex found himself airborne, caught in the seamless execution of a German suplex. As Alex Lost consciousness, Gracefell muttered calmly " I win "