Chapter 277: The Mysterious Swordsman



"Haha," Roth chimes in, his voice filled with warmth and a touch of playfulness, "we got married when we were kids. We were supposed to... do the thing that adult couples do this year, since we're already ma—"

"Kyaaaa! Don't talk about something so embarrassing in public," Avril interjects, her cheeks now burning crimson as she playfully hits Roth on the chest.

A smile tugs at the corners of my lips, the realization that bonds are forged in unexpected ways dawning upon me. It's fascinating how friendships can evolve into something deeper, anchoring us during times of turmoil.

"Hey, guys, we have to get going," I interject, seizing the moment to redirect our focus. With a swift motion, I unleash my wings, ready to take flight into the boundless sky. Avril and Roth follow suit, their wings unfurling as they join me in the skies above.

As I take to the skies, the rush of wind against my face heightens my senses, sharpening my focus. With a determined heart, I soar towards the cave where Zamira and our other teammates seek refuge.

Drawing closer, my eyes widen with shock and anger at the sight before me. Zamira, engages in a fierce battle against a blonde-haired man. The man wields two swords, one of which floats in the air, launching surprise attacks from unexpected angles.

My heart pounds in my chest as I witness the devastation caused by the flying sword. In a horrifying instant, it cleaves through Moe and Phill, severing their bodies from their waists. The loss of our comrades fuels the flames of fury within me, igniting a burning resolve to avenge their untimely deaths.

"That bastard!" I growl through gritted teeth, my anger bubbling to the surface. The taste of vengeance lingers on my tongue as I surge forward, propelled by a mixture of grief and rage. Roth and Avril follow closely behind, their eyes reflecting the same fire that burns within me.

"That's the guy I was talking about! I almost met my end at his hands, but I managed to swiftly swap with my clone. Unfortunately, my teammates weren't as fortunate." Avril's voice reaches my ears, her words laced with a mix of bitterness and determination.

"Let me take him on, Jake!" Roth's voice cuts through the chaos, brimming with anger and determination.

"Wait," I respond, my gaze fixed on the battle unfolding below. My mind races as I assess the situation, weighing our options. "Zamira is not one to be easily defeated. Let's observe and strategize before we act."

I focus my attention on the fight, observing the dynamics at play. Carmin, wielding her hefty axe, struggles to fend off the relentless assault from the flying sword. Her movements are hindered by the weight of her weapon, making it difficult for her to evade the swift strikes from unexpected angles.

Meanwhile, Zamira engages in a fierce and intense battle with the blonde-haired man. Their movements blur together, their swords clashing with a symphony of steel. Despite the ferocity of their exchange, I find myself able to track their movements with ease.

Suddenly, a realization dawns upon me: the blonde-haired man possesses a higher level of skill in swordsmanship than Zamira, despite relying solely on basic techniques. He expertly maneuvers, maintaining an offensive stance that keeps Zamira on the defensive. His strategy seems focused on preventing her from utilizing her powerful technique, Swordcraft.

Just who is this guy...

As the battle intensifies, my gaze remains fixed on the swordsman. A sense of unease settles within me, a nagging feeling that there's more to him than meets the eye. The crimson hue of blood stains the sky, casting an eerie glow upon the chaos below.

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In a horrifying instant, the flying sword cleaves through Carmin's head, cleanly separating it from her body. Time seems to slow as her lifeless form crumples to the ground, blood spurting from the severed neck. I can only watch in stunned silence as her body gradually dissolves into dust, vanishing into the sky.

"Jake..." Roth's voice trembles, a hint of unease coloring his words. The gravity of the situation weighs heavily upon us as we face this ruthless adversary.

"Don't go," I interject, my voice filled with caution and concern. "Something is off about that sword. If you engage him head-on, you'll be walking into certain death. Trust me. The sword seems to possess its own consciousness, initiating attacks and techniques independently. That guy is dangerous."

I shake my head, trying to process the events that have unfolded before me. For the first time in a while, I find myself facing an opponent that demands caution and respect. The swordsman's power and the autonomy of the flying sword leave no room for underestimation.

A heavy silence blankets the battlefield as we witness the swordsman's next move. The flying sword, having eliminated Carmin, now turns its attention towards its wielder. The blonde-haired man grabs hold of its hilt, swiftly sheathing his other sword into a space ring. His movements are so fluid and fast that they leave me momentarily impressed.

Curiosity gnaws at me, urging me to uncover the identity of the strange swordsman, "Display player's name," I mutter under my breath, hoping for a glimpse into his true identity.

In response, a small in-game screen materializes before my eyes, revealing the name:

[Player's Name: Arthur Bates]

Arthur Bates, I think to myself, committing the name to memory. There is a sense of familiarity in the way the name resonates, but I cannot quite place it in the midst of the chaotic battle.

Returning my focus to the fight unfolding below, I watch with bated breath as Arthur relentlessly swings his sword at Zamira. His attacks leave her no time to retaliate, forcing her to remain on the defensive. The sheer ferocity and precision of his strikes are awe-inspiring, reminding me once again of the danger we face.

Zamira, ever resilient, leaps backward in a desperate bid to create some distance between herself and Arthur. As she moves, I notice a change occurring within him. The sword he wields begins to emit a deep crimson glow, matching the intensity of his own aura. The very essence of his vampire aura seems to merge with the weapon.

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