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The Secret Service
Chapter 9: Baptism Of The Immortal

Chapter 9: Baptism Of The Immortal

CLANG!

A bright, resounding crash echoed as two metal pieces clashed violently. Adolph had hurled his short sword at Barth, but it was deftly deflected by the massive axe. The fight has begun... or rather, it had just resumed from a momentary pause caused by Barth's entrance.

"Hoh! Quite the thrower, my guy!" exclaimed Barth. His voice was unclear if it was genuine praise or mocking derision—whether he was impressed or simply taunting Adolph for his failed preemptive strike.

Adolph took out both of the flimsy knives lodged in his torso.

"Mhmm..."

The knives were light. Their blades were both thin and delicate. It was a mystery how they had managed to puncture Adolph's armor. Puzzled, Adolph couldn't fathom how the thieves had thrown them so accurately and effectively, even with such crude qualities.

Feeling the lightness and imbalance of the poorly made weapon in his hand, Adolph quickly stepped back. He shifted his weight to his rear foot, then with his sights focused, he pulled his arm back. Concentration enveloped his mind as he aligned the knife with his target—one of Barth's lackeys who had come with him.

The targeted lackey, instead of being wary or surprised, stood there silently with his arms crossed—fearless. It was as if he deliberately waited for Adolph to throw the knife. Quite the brave one, or just simply a guy with a death wish—one that Adolph would be pleasured to give.

Adolph launched the knife with a swift forward motion. His arm extended fully as he released the weapon. It flew towards its intended target but unfortunately, the knife spun erratically through the air. Instead of hitting the mark, the knife veered off course and landed harmlessly in the dirt several feet away, failing to even graze the thief.

"Hmm... I had hoped to have a good fight, but it seems your injuries are now taking a toll on your... performance, dear stranger." Barth looked at Adolph as if he was looking at a foul heap of trash. Disappointed... clearly.

Adolph ignored Barth's belittling words and pulled out the other knife lodged in his chest. Like the first, he hurled it with all his might. Sadly, it missed its mark entirely, landing even more sloppily and inaccurately than the previous throw.

"Are you perhaps not a lone thief on a mission?" Barth questioned with a tone dripping with disdain. "And here I thought you were, but now I'm sure you're not. See—your knife handling is shit!" Barth's lackeys beside him chuckled as they skillfully shuffled a pair of daggers between their fingers. The blades danced around their hands with such precision... as if mocking Adolph's inexperienced attempts.

"You do bring shame to a thief's most trusted friend with that atrocious throw. I did respect your body's sturdiness earlier but... Bah! My eyes now hurt watching you," Barth sneered, his face even contorted with more disgust at what Adolph had shown him.

"You've said it, boss," one of his lackeys chimed in. The maniacal laughter of the thieves by the campfire resounded behind them. They treated Adolph's failed attack like the punchline of a bad joke. A feat of a clown. But Adolph couldn't do anything to refute their reaction—after all, he knew he lacked their knife-throwing expertise.

THUMP!

A thick dagger suddenly pierced Adolph's right leg, thrown by the thief he had targeted earlier. "That's how you do it, fucker!" the thief exclaimed.

Barth turned with a swagger. "Wasting my damn time... You louts, restrain him but don't damage his armor any further. At least that might sell well on the black market. Move it!" The two experienced thieves followed Barth as he made his way toward the campfire. The four thieves, in turn, walked forward with devilish grins on their lips and took the vanguard to face Adolph.

Barth sat on top of Runick's body—his massive build crushing the lifeless cadaver of the young man beneath him. The other two used List and Charon's bodies like cozy makeshift chairs, mimicking Barth's arrogance.

"Woohoo! Now this is what I call entertainment!" Barth exclaimed in exhilaration. "Start the party, now!"

At Barth's signal, the four thieves rushed in toward Adolph. The first fighter, overconfident, approached fast with his short sword. Adolph quickly took out the hatchet on his body and carefully watched the thief's movements.

"Fucker... I said don't damage the merchandise, else I'll make you the merchandise myself!" Barth's shout fiercely echoed at the back, but the thief just smirked at Barth's warning.

This thief's posture was very aggressive: shoulders hunched and head low, like that of a predator honing in on its prey. Their movement was wild and undisciplined, driven more by the thief's inflated ego than by any real skill. Such swordsmanship of carelessness... shall be paid with life and Adolph here will be the one who delivers it.

He swung his sword in a wide, sweeping arc, aiming for Adolph's midsection—too wide, as a matter of fact. With a swift sidestep to the right, Adolph dodged the thief's initial attack.

SCHRIT!

Adolph's left shoulder absorbed a glancing blow, but it gave him a window for a counter-attack. He struck back with the hatchet in his hand and delivered a blow at the thief's exposed body. Unfortunately, what Adolph used was the back of the hatchet, delivering a blunt blow instead of a devastating chopping attack.

"Tch." Adolph made a clicking sound—a visible disappointment for committing such an error in a fight.

As the thief stood stunned and groaning in pain, Adolph hooked his arm around the neck of the man. He positioned his left foot behind the thug's legs and shifted his weight to his right. In one fluid motion, Adolph twisted his body—executing the whole maneuver he had seen before seamlessly. The result was evident: the thug crashed to the ground with a forceful throw, groaning in more pain upon impact.

"Charon..." muttered Adolph. He then fearsomely struck the thief on the ground with the hatchet, landing it in between the thief's mouth... slitting it as far as his ears. This helpless man now gurgled his blood beneath Adolph. As an act of mercy, Adolph further kicked down the hatchet, buried it deeper into the thief's head, and finally ended his life.

The contrast of the redness from the fresh blood as it painted the green grass below was further enhanced by the golden hue of the sunset's atmosphere. Adolph had never witnessed such vivid colors from death before and it caught his whole attention for a moment.

That's one off the count, but Adolph doesn't have the spare time to care.

"YARGH!" It was a howl in unison from the second and third thieves who attacked from opposite angles. They effectively flanked Adolph from left and right. Suddenly, a shadow lunged at the leg of one of the attackers. It was none other than Niche, biting at the leg of the thief and stopping him in its tracks.

"Argh! What the—" The thief sent a slash to Niche but his agitated counter was too slow for the nimbleness of the black fox.

Seeing one of the attackers distracted by his ally, Adolph took that chance to focus on the one from his left, but this thief was already thrusting his sword toward Adolph's face. As a reflex, Adolph put up his left hand to receive the thrust. The blade penetrated Adolph's hand, passing deep through the top of his forearm. The thief's face bore a sense of triumph and further gave Adolph a penetrating gaze. It might be his way of declaring that he has won... which was just nothing but a grave mistake.

Using his pierced hand, Adolph grabbed onto the blade and pulled the thief closer to him. With the dagger that flew to his right leg earlier, Adolph stabbed the thief on his side—then up to his neck—then into his heart. There wasn't even a time for the thief to flinch before croaking his last breath. Adolph threw the cold body to the side and withdrew the sword impaled deep into his hand.

He quickly looked back to face the other attacker only to find their neck and hands bleeding from deep scratches. Niche was growling fiercely on one side—locking eyes with the thief it successfully intercepted.

Adolph took another short sword on the ground, the one from the thief who died from the hatchet earlier. Another bright clanging of metals resounded as Adolph banged together the short swords he gripped. The injured thief took notice of Adolph's provocation and darted him with a furious gaze. With a hoarse-sounding cry, the thief vented his anger toward Adolph—seeking revenge, charging forward with his sword haphazardly swaying in the air.

But with the thief incited, their intense emotion only compromised their attack. It made someone calm, like Adolph, easily intercept it. With a quick parry to the side and a low kick, Adolph disarmed the thief and sent their sword flying.

Stolen story; please report.

SCHU—SCHULK!

A successive strike at the neck. Adolph beheaded the thief before him... almost. The mutilated body of the thief slumped to the ground with his head barely attached to his neck with a little patch of skin that Adolph had failed to cut.

THUMP!

Another knife sliced through the air, finding its mark with chilling accuracy. It struck Adolph's neck just off-center, sinking into his neck with a dampened thud. It was one of the more experienced henchmen of Barth, now standing at the campfire along with everyone else left alive. Their faces now warped in extreme shock and disbelief.

"What a monster... Why are you not dead yet?" Barth's voice cut through the tension.

Adolph stood amid the fallen with hands now marked with the blood of his foes. He clutched the two short swords in his hands, tighter than a drum.

In a simultaneous movement, Adolph raised both swords to shoulder height. With a powerful flick of his wrists, Adolph released both swords—sending them sharply spinning through the air. The first sword flew straight and true while its edge glinted with an orange glow. Was it from the sunset? From the flickering campfire? It was so entrancing... the dance of death making its way to its next victim.

CHUK...

Caught off guard, the naked thief barely had time to react; now the sword deeply punctured his chest before rebounding off to the ground. He gasped in horror as he collapsed, clutching the mortal wound he had received.

On the other hand, Barth, with his keen reflexes, saw the second sword hurtling towards him. A furious grin can be seen emanating from his parched lips. As a counter, he simply raised his axe and parried the sword, deflecting it away from his body. It did ricocheted away, but then—

SCHULK!

The deflected sword changed its course and was instead diverted towards the thief standing beside Barth. Caught off guard, the thief failed to evade in time. The sword struck his shoulder with a sharp impact, sending him staggering back and clutching the wound in agony. With blood now gushing out of the wound, the thief could only whimper in pain as he excruciatingly waited for his final breath.

SCHALK!

A wide blade of axe beheaded the thief kneeling on the ground. A cruel mercy... delivered by none other than Barth. The unlucky head rolled off to the ground, void both of emotion... and of life.

Barth, seeing his men fall one by one, tightened his grip on his axe. Furious. Right... his eyes burned with fury. He committed a mistake that he now ultimately regretted. His naked subordinate, now gravely wounded, struggled to stay on his feet. Meanwhile, his last experienced lackey stood by his side with breath coming in ragged gasps.

"My men, again..." It was a gnarling whisper from Barth, brimming with hatred.

A bloody dagger was suddenly hurled at the ground before Adolph. "We're almost there," said Niche while marching to his side. Adolph picked up the dagger with his left while his right reached out for the knife on his neck. His armor was now punctured and slashed in several places, yet he stood resolute. Still standing... and ever ready.

The fight ensued as the experienced thief lunged first, his short dagger aimed precisely at Adolph's midsection. It was mostly a precise strike, and it should have been. But all of a sudden, Adolph dropped to his knees. His head bowed, arms limped at his sides, and the daggers slipped from his grasp to the ground.

The thief stopped a second before his blade clashed right at Adolph's head. Niche barked relentlessly at Adolph on one side, helping the thief to interpret what just happened.

"He's down... Barth. He's finally—"

BAMPH!

A powerful fist met the crotch of the thief upward—a dirty-handed yet effective strike. Following up the uppercut, Adolph landed a straight punch in the same vulnerable spot—pain now extremely visible in the thief's expression.

Adolph lunged at the thief's weakened body, forcing him to the ground. It was another wrestle, yet again. The thief's longer arms prevented Adolph from reaching his head directly, so Adolph raised his body momentarily before swiftly bringing it down again. This motion extended Adolph's reach slightly, allowing his middle finger to jab into the thief's eyes.

"Argh!" The thief's arms weakened from the damage, freeing Adolph from his grasp. Not contented, Adolph buried both of his thumbs deep into both of the thief's eyes. The thief's roar drowned out the sickening sound of his organs squelching around Adolph's fingers.

As a final blow, Adolph snapped the head he held to the right—a solid, crunching sound released the soul out of the thief's blinded head. His armor was now splattered with blood and his hands were covered in the gore of his defeated foes; Adolph had defeated almost most of Barth's lackeys.

"For victory!" A raspy voice suddenly echoed before Adolph.

The naked thief, seeing his opportunity, charged forward with a wild, desperate roar. Before Adolph could react, the naked thief crashed into him, using his massive weight to pin Adolph down. With his back against Adolph's back, the thief's hands clamped down on Adolph's arms, pinning them to the sides of the dead thief beneath him.

A shadow loomed over Adolph. "What now, Barth?" the naked thief bellowed with a voice filled with triumph. Adolph, pinned under the naked thief's weight, knew he had to act fast. Adolph twisted his body, using the leverage of the dead thief beneath him to shift the naked bastard's weight just enough to free one of his arms.

Pound, Charged Weight of Hundred Irons

"What—wait, Barth!"

Barth's axe began its deadly descent as Adolph swiftly smacked the wounded chest of the naked thief above him. The naked thief's triumphant roar earlier suddenly turned into a louder scream of agony. The thief's grip loosened just enough for Adolph to push him off, but time ran out before Adolph could complete his escape.

CRASH!

With a thunderous crash, Barth's axe completely cleaved the three stacked bodies in twain. The naked thief, halved vertically, showered the bodies below him with his blood. Everything was sprayed with red entrails and fresh viscera as if baptizing the bodies beneath with icky, crimson water.

Adolph, upon receiving such an attack, only managed to get half of his torso, his right hand, and head intact—the rest was gone deflated and drenched in red below the body of the naked thief. Adolph's torso, painted with the pungent odor of innards and flesh spilling out, stayed true to its form—leaving a large hole beneath where one can see the hollow body inside. Barth grabbed Adolph at the head and effortlessly hung him in the air. Their gazes met with each other... and what followed was a most unpleasant exchange of silent death stares.

The deep thump of Barth's axe echoed at the ground beneath as he unhanded it. With a silent scrapping sound, a dagger was unsheathed at his waist belt. "So you were... a champion. But that doesn't matter. Your luck ends here. This is my victory."

"Grawh!" roared Niche as it attempted to attack Barth's arm holding Adolph. Unfortunately, Barth saw through the black fox's attempt and pierced his dagger right below Niche's body. Niche whimpered from being impaled at the hands of Barth; a hopeless cry, to which Adolph's consciousness glimmered and responded.

Barth swiped the dagger to the side where it almost cut Niche in half. Adolph, as he saw Niche hurt before him, felt another surge of uncontrollable emotion welling up inside of him...

Therefore we thrive in death. Don't forget this, benefactor...

A second wind swept over Adolph's head as he remembered a certain advice. Adolph caught Niche's head with his only available arm. Without hesitation, Adolph immediately threw Niche toward Barth's neck.

"NICHE!"

Niche seized the chance and bit hard on Barth's neck—its fangs burrowed deep into the soft flesh. Without a way to defend himself, Barth couldn't evade this surprise attack let alone process why in the world Adolph, nor Niche, could still move after all of the mortal damage done to their body.

Niche's fangs continued to burrow deep inside Barth's throat. As Adolph saw the blood dripping on Barth's neck, he immediately pulled Niche away. An organ of a pinkish tube bathed in blood popped out of Barth's neck. That was the last time Adolph could see Barth struggle for his life before he was thrown away in the distance.

Adolph rolled prone to the ground, releasing his grip on Niche along the way. Not far from where he lay, the sound of someone slumping and hitting the ground reached his ears. It brought him a slight sense of relief as he recognized whose body it was. He pushed his body face up to the sky, or whatever was left of it.

Now lying supine, Adolph stared up at the evening sky blazed with hues of crimson and gold. The air was heavy with the scent of death; the aftermath of the battle illuminated by the sunset's fading glow. Yet, Adolph paid it no mind. His gaze remained fixed on the darkening sky with thoughts swirling as he contemplated both the cost of victory and his losses.

Suddenly, a voice manifested at his side. "Close call, Adolph."

After the grave wound it had received earlier, Adolph was surprised to hear Niche still speaking.

"Oh I'm alive and well, Adolph..." explained Niche, answering the thoughts Adolph hasn't voiced yet. "But still, I didn't expect such a... brutal fight right after you inherited the will of the soul wisp."

"What do you mean?" asked Adolph—clueless of Niche's meaning.

"I suppose we can proceed with the discussion now but..." Niche paused as its head sneaked up on one side of Adolph's view. "You're a mess right now, Adolph."

"Does it matter?"

"Yes..."

.

.

.

"Let's get you fixed up first, shall we?"