Chapter 16: Weakness (2)

Among the crowd, at it’s backline, Marc and Kaze look behind them.

“Shouldn’t we help the soldiers? There is far too many bandits surrounding them!”. Kaze stares at Marc. “They’re all gonna die! Even your uncle!”

“We can’t! I’d want to, too, you know?! But if even my uncle said it’s hopeless, then it is! He knows very well what this decision meant for him!”

“Why do we have to be so weak, damnit!”

The two keep running in silence, cursing their own powerlessness.

Meanwhile, Lark finds himself charging a soldier who was just about to kill two small girls. “Leave them alone, you bastard!”. Clang. Clang. Their swords collide over and over. While Lark puts everything he has left into his strikes, his exhaustion is more than apparent. The bandit’s swordmanship boasts far more skill, and he has no issues defending against his attacks. He keeps on the defensive as he blocks the screaming madman’s attacks, and let’s him use up his energy. As the strikes grow slower, he pushes the offense, but finds himself unable to break through. Clash! Clash! The swords keep colliding in a back and forth, and even though Lark’s power drops as the fight goes on, he scares off the bandit by striking with all his might every few hits. But if the battle continues this way, it’s clear who the winner is. Lark takes a few steps back, and walks around the bandit in circles. His enemy is patiently waiting, knowing he’ll only have to wait for the right moment to cut him down. Lark rushes in and releases a fury of slashes, blocked off one after another.

“You won’t defeat me like this, you moron”. The bandit mocks Lark with a laugh, knowing full well his sword is never going to penetrate him.

Lark doesn’t listen to him. In fact, his senses have grown numb, and the only thing he really notices is his enemy, and the sound of their swords colliding. Clang. Clang. Clang. He keeps unleashing strike after strike, but to no end. The tip of his blade screeches as it drags around on the cobblestone floor. ‘This is it. MY LAST CHANCE!’. He puts his entire body into an upwards swing of his blade. Clang! It’s blocked once more, but Lark uses the movement of his body to kick his enemy into his balls with all his might. Ughh. The bandit drops to his knees, letting go of his sword. He readies his sword for the finishing blow. “Now die, you monster!”.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”. The somewhat familiar voice comes from behind him. Lark turns around, and finds a giant bandit with a club pointing at the two small girls cowering on the ground a few meters away from him.

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‘Isn’t that the caveman. He is still alive?’

“Now, you little shit, listen here. I will kill you. But I’ll kill those children first. Go ahead and try to do something about it!”. As the caveman finishes those words, he walks to the children and prepares for a huge downwards swing.

Lark dashes between the children and the giant, and uses an upwards swing of his sword to change the clubs trajectory. Rumble! The clubs impact shakes the floor.

“I’m honestly impressed you managed to do that!”, he tells him with a creepy smile. It fades away in an instant. “But you’re done for now. It’s time for payback! Regret messing with me in your last moments!” He pulls the club up and rest it on his shoulder, then unleashes a powerful strike onto Lark, laughing like a maniac.

Lark uses his sword like a shield to protect the children behind him, grabbing it with one hand on the handle and one on the tip, trying his hardest to block the attack. Clang. Vibrations are sent through his entire body. Clang. At this point, Lark isn’t even sure what he’s holding onto the sword with. He can’t feel even feel his arms. Clang. The giant keeps smashing his club into the sword, and as tears start rolling down Lark’s eyes, his laugh grows even louder. ‘Damnit! That caveman isn’t even putting his entire power into those strikes! He’s just mocking me! WHY AM I SO GODDAMN WEAK?!’

Clang. Clang. Clang. His sword drops to the ground as the strength to keep his arms up leaves his body. Lark drops on his knees, his arms slumping onto the ground. He appears even more motionless than the terrified children behind him, and looks at the caveman’s body blocking out sun behind him as he reaches back with his club for a proper finishing blow.

‘Is this what the Grim Reaper looks like? I wonder… I’m sorry, Elaine, but it appears you were right. Please, everyone, live well.’

As he closes his eyes, he feels like he caught a very faint glimpse of something else entering his field of vision.

Splat! Rumble!

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