《Phantasmic Light》Chapter 19: Rise I
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I was in a different area before I realized it. There, a minotaur waited for me and aimed to strike me before I had the chance to react. Fortunately I had Oblivion in my hand and aimed to parry the blow. There was a huge difference in force, so I was pushed back, the bones in my arm creaking under the pressure.
I paid no mind to the pain as there was a 15 foot daemon in front me, eyeing me as if I was a snack. I dodged out of the way of his next strike and went to counter attack. I was aiming for there to be a delay between attacks, but his axe was faster than the last minotaur I faced. I once again intercepted the axe with my blade, hoping to disperse the force. Instead of it working as I planned, the sword was forced against me, creating a nasty gash diagonally across my chest. My shirt was now cut apart and covered in blood.
The good news was that I didn’t die. The bad news was that my ribs and sternum were in several pieces respectively. It hurt a lot, but it was fun. I was having fun fighting something that was much stronger than me. I rolled out of the way of another heavy attack. I was unwilling to clash head on with him again.
After the next attack, I rolled in range of my sword, and cut the achilles tendon. Strangely enough, when I cut, there was no resistance. After limiting the movement of the minotaur I circled around slowly, looking for an opening to attack. I moved in range to provoke him, and he took the bait. He swung wildly, angry after being wounded, and I jumped back. I rushed in and cut at the hand of the minotaur, severing it.
I weakened its attacking power, but I was unsure of how hard it could hit. So I still stayed back. The minotaur’s eyes turned red with anger. I’m sure it was because he didn’t consider me a threat and was just going to quickly kill me before returning back to whatever he was doing beforehand. But now because he was careless not only had his tendon been severed, but he also lost a hand.
Aiming to finish the fight, he swung at me again with all his force. I charged in and feinted right. As soon as he changed the direction of the attack, I launched my real attack by spinning towards my left and bisecting him.
With that last swing, I won my very first fight on the bottom floor. Thankfully the minotaur was the only one in the area, because I had trouble staying awake. I fell face first into the dirt and passed out cold.
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I dreamed of something nice. It was a life where I didn’t have to fight. Where my family wasn’t torn apart. The kingdom was a nice place to live, where the citizens were happy, and we weren’t constantly at war. I could go to school and make friends. The guards were a sign of safety rather than terror. I could freely choose my place in the kingdom, rather than be the one to tear it out by the roots.
A normal life, I yearned for a normal life. People think that being a major player in the world is awesome and cool. They’re wrong, if I could sacrifice every ounce of my power for a normal life without the isolation, without the violence, without the hatred, I would have in a heartbeat. That was the last time I thought that. From then on my love for blood and violence began to surge.
When I rose from my literal dirt nap, my wounds had been scabbed over and the bleeding stopped. The pain hadn’t yet left as every part of my body was aching, but all my bones seemed to be intact. They also felt stronger and the blood running through my body was boiling, urging me to fight something, anything.
I brandished my sword and walked onward. It wasn’t long before I came upon 50 or so goblins, each one held onto a small dagger that looked to be about 3 inches long. This number was much more than I had ever faced at one time. I should have felt scared, but I was delighted.
Was it the daemon blood? No, it shouldn’t be awakening now. But what else could have caused me to find happiness in slaughter? Why was I happy? Didn’t I want to be normal? Isn’t this kind of life a burden? Even if it was, I wouldn’t be able to kill things anymore. No! I can’t think like that spreading violence and bloodshed is exactly what I don’t want to do! ...but who said that I would spread it? Maybe I could use power to stop others from fighting. Maybe, but what happens if I become a monster that I don’t want to become? Who will stop me? I don’t care who stops me anymore I just want blood!
I was fighting a losing a battle to stay righteous as my taste for killing had just started to be acquired. My guess was that the contract had been keeping the daemon blood dormant through magic, and after I killed for the first time without it, it started to awaken, and afflicted my mind.
I charged toward them, unhindered by fear. They were extremely confused for a number of reasons. One, I was alone and charging a lot of them. Two, I came from the bottom floor when most humans were to come from above. Three, I was smiling while facing possible death.
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I continued forward and then suddenly stopped about 20 feet away from the goblins. I readied a defensive stance. I was hungry for battle, but not death. Against this many opponents even if they’re weak, they could still overwhelm me with numbers.
As the first few approached I cut them down instantly, scaring the rest of goblins and showing my strength. After the initial “assault” by them they surrounded me completely. 6 of them charged at the same time. I kicked one back into the group and then swung my sword in a wide arc, killing 3 instantly, their throats cut. I then proceeded to take the heads of the other two as the last one disappeared into the group. This time 10 of them came at the same time.
Instead of waiting for them all to come at me, I charged toward 3 of them and cut them apart. I was careless and got stabbed in the back 3 times. Fortunately they missed my spinal cord so I wasn't paralyzed. Unfortunately, there was extreme pain. Instead of falling over and dying like most people would after being stabbed 3 times, I only got angry. As I got angry, there was a red light shining in the skull on Oblivion.
As the light began to shine more and more brightly, it released a baleful aura that shook the goblins to the core. After that aura was released they all froze in fear. After cutting down the 3 who stabbed they came back to their senses. And the sensible thing for them to do was run. They scattered away and it was impossible for me to catch them after just getting stabbed. At that time I didn’t know that the light shining was the daemon beginning the process of waking up for real.
For the next month I didn’t do anything but fight onwards. I didn’t stop to rest at all. Even if I was wounded I kept fighting, only to find out that a scar was where my injury was about an hour ago. Over the month I only encountered goblins and minotaurs and killed them all. It wasn’t until I encountered an orc that I had a real challenge again.
It looked like a giant pig headed goblin, and it smelled worse. It was larger than a minotaur and would probably kill me if I even got hit by it more than once with the brutish weapon it was holding. It looked to be a simple club, about 6 feet long, that was made for smashing things. Except this one had a spike through it. The spike was probably about 3 feet long and as thick as my leg around the base and extremely sharp at the end. Where it found this weapon was beyond me, but I wasn’t interested either way.
I cruel smile was etched onto my face as I was aiming to kill the orc instantly. I jumped up aiming to plunge my sword into it’s throat, when the orc slammed the club against me. The spike pierced right through my left arm. It was imbedded through my upper arm, and my humerus was probably shattered into a million pieces.
Without hesitation I took oblivion and separated my arm from my body, just above where the spike was. Instead of crying out in pain I bit down on my lip and continued my assault on the orc.
I was overconfident in my abilities, and because of that my left arm is gone. Luckily, Oblivion was a sword that could be wielded with one arm, though I wouldn’t have as much power behind my strikes, I would have to learn to adapt.
I ran toward the orc and incited an attack then leapt out of the way, landing on the weapon. I ran up the orcs arm and slashed at it’s eyes and then retreated. It was now blind so the fight was going to go easier. I was losing a massive amount of blood after forcefully amputating my arm so I had a sense of urgency when finishing off the orc.
I found a fist sized rock on the ground and quietly picked it up, while placing down Oblivion. I hurled the rock across the room and picked up my sword in the next instant. The sound of the rock smashing against something drew the orc to go in the other direction. In that instant I ran up behind the orc and stabbed Oblivion into the spine of the daemon. Unable to do anything else, it fell to the ground with a cry. I swiftly plunged my sword into the back of the orc one more time, this time I pierced its heart, ending it’s life.
I had won. It had died and I lived. Life and death battles are the true way to make one’s combat potential grow. I felt myself improve, even though it resulted in the loss of an arm. One moment I was looking at the corpse of the orc, and the next I was looking at the ceiling and for the first time in a month I slept.
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