Their swords collided with a bright screech.

As they exchanged blows, Ayah came to a conclusion, they were fairly matched in speed, all her advancement points were well spent. But that was all she had going for her at the moment. He was stronger, far stronger than her. Her arms ached each time their swords collided, sparks emitting from Zain’s blade.

Speed alone wouldn’t be enough to fend him off for long.

Their blades clashed. Too focused on keeping the sharp blade away from her face with its electric charges running along its steel− she could feel the pressure increase around her− she failed to keep track of his other arm.

Zain’s fist hit her squarely in the stomach, and Ayah couldn’t suppress the pained cry that escaped her throat as she was flung backwards, tumbling against the grass, the air knocked out of her lungs. She tried to take a breath in, but it got caught in her chest as pain laced up her torso, as if a knife was digging between her ribs.

A single inhale was enough to tell her that a few of her ribs were bruised, or worse, might even be broken, and she could only hope that there was no internal bleeding. At least she was able to keep a hold of her sword as she pushed herself to her knees. Blood filled her mouth. She spat in the dirt and clutched at her sword, gritting her teeth against the pain.

Instead of attacking her again though, Zain just stood there, studying her for a moment, bright, glowing eyes intent in a way that made her skin prickle.

“Given a bit of time, you could have become a fine swordswoman. Too bad you won’t live to see that day.”

He brought his sword down, devoid of all the strength he was using earlier. A flash of light burst from the steel and Ayah found herself skidding over the ground a couple meters before coming to a stop. She blinked, confusion clouding her eyes. There was a long crack along the middle of her sword, and as she tilted it to the side to inspect it, a faint click sounded in the silence as it broke clean in half. There was a pause in time, as her eyes widened and the end of her blade fell pitifully to the ground with a dull thud. She watched the broken sword, unable to comprehend what had happened.

Her sword, the only weapon in her possession, was gone. She couldn’t even keep up with Zain with an intact blade. What was she going to do now?

His eye crinkled at the edge and mirth seeped from his countenance as he regarded her horrified expression.

“This ends here. This has grown a bit dull for my taste. I’m not in the habit of fighting defenseless opponents.” He swirled his sword around. “If there is a God you believe in, who would be willing to listen to an abomination, I suggest you offer him your last prayer.”

She frantically searched around her thoughts for something to do, something to buy her time to think. She had to stall for time till she figured out how to escape from his clutches.

But how?

If Loaye was to be trusted− he wasn’t, she knew he wasn’t, but she was running out of options− Zain’s parents were one of the highest noble families in the kingdom. But they were wrongfully accused of treason for helping convicted criminals escape to the red desert, thus outside the kingdom’s control. But Aayan, the crown prince at the time, saw Zain clutching at his mother’s skirt, crying as she was holed away to her execution. He convinced his father to pardon him and enlist him in his employ.

The convicted criminals his parents were helping, was there any chance they were the ones they referred to as accursed? Loaye had implied that Aayan wasn’t the first king to turn dark to gain more powers.

Was there any chance…?

“Is this how you honor your parents memory? By siding with their murderers?” Ayah asked, letting the disgust and contempt she felt for him seep into her voice.

He stilled, his face running through a myriad of expressions before settling on a snarl.

“What would your mother say if she saw you now? You think she would be proud of what you became? A vassal for the very people who murdered them, who tarnished their names and slaughtered them without mercy.”

“Shut up,” he muttered with barely contained rage.

Ayah continued, “What you’re doing now is no different than what your parents’ murderers did. By helping them, you’re not only destroying everything your father and mother stood for, it’s as if you’re murdering them, again and again, each time an accursed blood is spelt.”

“Shut your filthy mouth, you fiend. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” His hands were shaking, and his grip on the hilt tightened till his knuckles turned white.

“They fought to save the very people your king is killing.”

He swung his sword at her, while she could see it coming towards her, it was too fast for her to counterattack.

“My parents were wrong! They were fooled by the likes of you! They were too kind for their own good. And in the end, their kindness was their doom. They had believed there was still some goodness in your kind’s filthy heart. If only they could see the truth for what it was, if your kind had never existed, none of this would have happened!” He kept screaming, the ground breaking and shattering under him and smaller chunks of rocks floating a few inches in the air, a current of electricity zapping through them, cracking them even further.

Ayah barely registered his words. She clutched at her shoulder and failed to hold back a scream as pain lanced up and down her arm. Her sword, along with the arm attached to it to the elbow, were on the ground, sliced clean off.

He had sliced off her arm.

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Ayah watched with distant horror as blood pooled from what remained of her arm.

Her arm had been cut…

Her arm had been cut off…

She heard the ding of the system, but it sounded so far away, and Ayah was still watching the blood as it fell in rivulet down her torso and gathered around her feet.

She couldn’t take her eyes away.

She doubted anything could make her look away from her sliced arm.

Deep in the recesses of her mind, she heard him move, and she forcefully shifted her eyes away from her arm and back up to his approaching figure. The world tilted but she planted her feet, refusing to fall to her knees even at the face of her death. She brought her hand up to protect herself, only noticing when it was too late and she couldn’t change her stance to stop the oncoming strike, that in her haste, she had lifted the one that was sliced off. But instead of thin air, a bright pink appendage collided with the blade. The sword sliced into the tender skin, but stopped and Zain flung himself away, staring at her with wide shocked eyes.

“What sorcery is this?” he muttered.

Ayah stared at her new hand. The blood oozed out the deep gash then slowed to a trickle, and the split skin had already started knitting back together.

She glanced at the screen vying for her attention.

[Skill : Regeneration used.]

[Mana used : 5 ]

[Mana : 115]

She glanced down at her feet, and true enough, her arm was still there, fingers loose around her broken sword, the ground a darker shade of rusted red.

“He was right. These powers were granted to you by the devils you worshiped, didn’t you?” He seethed, standing rigid. A terse hiss of air escaped between his clenched teeth. “How many innocents did you kill for such powers?”

“No one,” Ayah hissed. “I’m not like you.”

“No.” The smile on his face was slanted and dangerous. “You’re worse.”

She felt the air around her charge with a current, and as if it became second nature to her, she called her broken sword to her hand and held it up as he materialized in front of her, his sword held high. She had a split second to grimace at the warm sticky blood coating the hilt, before he twisted his sword away and kicked her in the head, sending her thumbling a couple times before her back collided with a tree trunk. Spider webs rattled above her, some threads fell loose and covered her prone form.

She felt blood welling up in her throat and she started to cough, but her body was so weak there was hardly any force behind it. She tried getting back to her feet, and squeezed her eyes shut against the pain, and when she opened them again, she was looking at Zain.

He dug his fingers at the collar of her battered armor− she heard the cracks that followed and knew it won’t last for long− and lifted her to her feet, his wide crazed eyes sent shivers down her spine.

“A filthy creature like you, an abomination, has no right to speak about my parents. I’ll make you regret the day you were born.”

He threw her away, and this time, she struggled to her feet before he reached her. She held her chipped and broken sword in front of her, and spit the blood that had gathered at her mouth.

He chuckled, his laugh devoid of mirth. “No matter how many times your limbs grow back, I’ll just cut them off again. We’ll see who gets tired first.”

Ayah tried to evade him, but to no avail. While she could see him coming, in his rage, he had become faster, and stronger. She couldn’t remember how many times she had used the regeneration skill. The ground was drenched in her blood and torn skin. He seemed to drive a twisted satisfaction from watching her limbs regrow. Like it was some kind of competition. Who would give up first? His stamina? Or her regeneration?

Ayah gritted her teeth. The pain now, a constant companion. She barely registered the sharp sting before a new appendage emerged. But just like her Stamina, soon she wouldn’t be able to use the skill again. Her mana wasn’t endless. It would soon be depleted, and Ayah didn’t want to think what would happen then.

She needed to find a way out of this.

She waved her hand over her face, removing the webs that had stuck to her hair when a nasty kick had sent her flying straight through one of the sticky webs.

Then, she stilled.

A wild idea came to her mind, and with it, Harith’s words.

“When on a battlefield, don’t focus on one opponent and turn your back to the others.”

She flew towards the trees, Zain watched her with a bored expression, sure she couldn’t get away from his grasp, no matter how much she tried. But she wasn't. She wasn’t trying to run away.

She crashed into the webs before lunging towards him. She swung her broken sword at him, trying to get a lucky hit, though it wasn’t her real intention. He kicked her away and she landed against another trunk with so much force, the webs swayed around her.

She stood up, and attacked him again and again. Regrowing any limbs he had cut and discreetly kicking the discarded appendages towards him.

It felt weird to kick her sliced off arms and legs around as if she was playing football. She was going mad.

Maybe she was already mad. The madness of this world had taken root inside her, and flourished into the crazy woman that she had become.

Willingly getting her limbs severed.

Then the system’s ding announced the warning she had been waiting for.

[Warning : Enemies have appeared!]

“How many?” Ayah whispered, perched over a branch, her eyes fixed on Zain who was leisurely standing opposite her, waiting for her to attack him again.

[Arachne x 30 have appeared. ]

Ayah smiled. “Good.”

She launched herself towards Zain, then swerved to the side, planting her feet against the trunk beside him. She held up her hand towards him and, using her own sword, sliced it off. Her blood flew in an arc, drenching him further. He blinked at her, confusion marring his face.

[Warning : Enemies have appeared!]

The system’s screen seemed to scream at her without a sound. Its message kept blinking in and out of existence, and there was one thing Ayah was grateful for; no quest to eliminate the new threats that had appeared. The system was truly on her side this time.

A movement caught her attention, barely noticeable if not for the system’s alerts. She could see from the corner of her eye, the fine and silvery strands sway gently despite the absence of a breeze.

“System, I relinquish ownership over the shadow armor.”

[Player wishes to discard Shadow Armor.]

[Do you Confirm?]

“I do.”

The armor blinked out of existence, then appeared again in front of her, hovering in the air for a split second, the red of her blood shone for a moment as it caught the moonlight, then it plummeted to the ground. Two arachne monsters, that were inches above her head, dived for it, attracted by the amount of blood coating it. She twisted her head to the side, their sharp fangs missing her by a hairbreadth.

Zain wasn’t as fortunate. With both his armor and his skin drenched in her blood, and her newly cut arm laying discarded next to him still oozing blood. The monsters dived for him, overwhelming him in number.

Ayah didn’t stay to see whether he could defeat them or if the number was too great even for someone of his caliber to deal with, which she doubted. She sped away, evading the sharp legs of a monster as it lunged at her. Its leg dealt a shallow cut over her unprotected back. Ayah winced but didn’t stop. She powered through, using whatever remained of her sword to clear her path.