Harris stared at Bill with coldness. The wind stirred his hair, and a green aura vibrated around his tunic.
The young man held his gaze, though his mind was a whirlwind. He was desperately searching for a strategy to escape with his life.
But there was nothing. No plan would leave him unscathed from this fight. If he didn't give it his all, he would die. He had even considered running into the forest and disappearing. But his body was too battered to run a marathon while fending off magical attacks.
He felt a chill throughout his body. The person before him was unlike anything he had encountered before. The only visible advantage was that Harris didn't seem to be carrying a weapon at his waist or back.
But he wouldn't trust that, after all, he himself could create blades and daggers of mana. He had no doubt the other had his own repertoire of tricks.
Svend, a few meters behind Harris, had his eyes fixed on the two people before him.
Slowly, and without anyone noticing, he began to focus on his surroundings: the leaves of the trees, the destroyed cave where life had once thrived, the short grass beneath his feet, and even the earth and what lay beneath it.
He was trying to form his first core. Cores were more likely to form in external environments, where elements and invisible forces abounded.
And before him stood two warriors: one with a single core but with strange abilities that made Svend hesitate; and the other, an elite among the inhabitants of the kingdom: a royal guard. Someone far above soldiers like Svend or Mark, even above the gray-haired knight. Someone with mysterious elemental powers, like the wind. It was the perfect opportunity for Svend to try to create his core.
What very few people are capable of. Keeping concentration in these situations is extremely difficult for anyone.
But Svend wasn't just anyone: he was the son of the king, forced to endure great pressures throughout his life. He wouldn't let things like this decide his fate.
"Are you going to attack to prove your worth, or do you prefer I go after you?" Harris asked, massaging his neck.
Bill remained still and calm on the outside. However, inside he had no idea how to proceed. He couldn't find any opening in Harris.
"You can go first. After all, aren't you the one who has to catch me? Or what's wrong? Will you wait for someone you consider weaker to strike first? Didn't you call me a cowardly weakling? I'll let you make the first move, come on!"
His voice sounded arrogant and undeniably challenging. He wanted, at least, to provoke him and throw him off balance.
To Bill's surprise, it didn't work.
"As you wish, you coward!" he said, a wide smile spreading on his lips, like a demon's grin.
One second. Just one second was enough for Harris.
He was in front of Bill in the blink of an eye. With his fist clenched and moving faster than lightning, he aimed for his stomach, a green glow enveloping his mana-charged fist.
The blow connected before Bill could finish summoning his sword, reverberating through his body like an internal tremor.
Bill's eyes lost their color, and blood spilled from his mouth.
And it wasn't enough, because the punch continued to sink deeper, until it sent him flying with insane force, tumbling like a ragdoll. He crashed into several thin trees, snapping their trunks.
Finally, after flying a few meters, he slammed into a thicker tree, his back hitting it like a battering ram against an indestructible wall.
"Ughhh…"
He couldn't withstand the heavy blow, and his eyes almost lost their spark.
The force of the strike began to dissipate, and he started to fall into the grass.
A system notification covered his vision:
[Corporeal Shel: a lost martial art of the orcs, designed to provide physical and mental protection. (Passive use)]
"Did it finally… work?" he whispered, wincing in pain and exhaustion.
Inside, his body screamed in agony. But this time, his bones remained in place.
"Though that doesn't change the fact that it hurts like hell. I'll think about the ability's conditions later."
He slowly got up, his body feeling like jelly. In the distance, he could already hear Harris's soft footsteps.
He looked at his body, and a hole had appeared in his fabric armor, right in his stomach where Harris had hit him. Considering the fact that his armor already looked like tattered rags, this new wound didn't bother Bill much.
"I'll need to find new clothes," he thought, his hand holding his stomach and leaning on the tree.
Harris's steps grew louder.
"First, I need to survive another day for that."
He let out a heavy sigh and created a black double-edged sword.
And then… a new yellow window that he had never seen before appeared in front of him out of nowhere.
[Acquired skills: Corporeal Shel, Sword Will, Shape-shifting]
[Core skills: Flames of the Void Hell]
"Shape-shifting...? Is that what the goblins used in the cave?"
Bill was confused. He had some understanding of his first core skill. After all, he could feel it in the small marble beneath his chest. By concentrating on it and channeling mana, the flames manifested in his palm as a ball of fire.
The system's voice in his head and the window had appeared frequently before, when he fought with the gray goblins. It's just that… he had completely ignored everything around him.
He read carefully the information for the Shape-shifting and Flames of the Void Hell skills.
[Shape-shifting: a unique ability of the gray goblin tribe. Allows the bearer to take the appearance and traits of the person they kill. (Active use) Available individuals: Gray Goblin]
"And how is that supposed to help me?!"
[Flames of the Void Hell: used by the smith god, Hephaestus. There is nothing in the mortal plane that can't be burned. They only extinguish when the bearer decides. Warning: excessive use of this skill can consume the bearer's core.(active use)]
"Do those gods actually exist? Aren't they just myths? The bad part is that those flames consume a lot of mana the longer I keep them active. Just a moment ago, I almost drained my reserves."
"I just need an opening,"
Harris's figure appeared between the trees, confused by the state of the young man.
"What a surprise, I was planning to pierce your stomach with that blow. What are you made of, huh?"
Catching his breath, Bill raised his sword in front of him defensively. Now he was ready for anything.
"How many more hits will your body be able to take, Bill?"
There was no answer. Instead, he was deeply focused, his gaze locked on Harris, trying to predict his next move. A drop ran down his cheek, falling onto the dry grass.
And then…
This time, Harris didn't throw a punch. It was a curved kick, aimed directly at his head.
He raised his sword to block the kick, and he stopped it, but as before, he was thrown to the side. His body didn't take the full blow, but his sword shattered into pieces.
"Damn!"
Not losing sight of him, Bill dared to strike first. He stomped hard on the ground and disintegrated the fragment of his sword. Appearing to the side of Harris, he shoved a flaming punch into his face.
The guard, noticing but not caught by surprise, took a small step back, barely dodging the fire-wrapped punch. His eyes, locked on Bill, were full of boredom, as if he was too slow to even pay attention.
Bill remained calm. He didn't expect to hit him on the first try. He shifted his center and threw another strike, this time aimed directly at his face.
Harris simply stepped aside, letting the punch pass by him. He raised his knee and drove it into Bill's stomach with immense force.
Bill hit the ground with a dull thud. His eyes turned white, and he groaned in pain, rolling on the floor.
Everything around him sounded distant, like a faint echo.
The powerful guard crouched down, looking at the figure on the ground with pity. He grabbed Bill by the hair and lifted his head.
"Ugh..."
Internal pain coursed through Bill. His organs were shredded.
"Answer me one thing, Bill… what are you trying to achieve? What makes someone like you keep fighting?"
"Hahh..." Bill sighed with exhaustion and looked directly at Harris, into his gray eyes, devoid of any life.
He replied:
"Go… rot. Who said I'm alone?"
Harris looked at him sadly, with pity. Until, through the reflection of his golden eyes, he saw it…
Behind him, a few meters away, hidden among the trees.
Svend had his fingertips on the grass, and then…
Vines shot up from the ground like worms, creeping beneath the earth toward Harris, attaching themselves to his ankles and hands like webs.
He turned sharply, sending a wave of bloodlust toward Svend.
Undisturbed, more vines began to attach, and he simply tore them off, ripping them apart like paper.
"What do you think you're doing?!" he shouted at the man hiding among the trees, his voice laced with slight fury.
His eyes widened instantly as he felt a strong concentration of mana behind him.
He spun his neck quickly.
And for the first time since the battle began, he was caught by surprise.
Bill, his hands together in front of him, held a ball of black fire. His gaze, burning and piercing like tiny suns, sent a chill down Harris's spine.
The ball of fire was hurled at great speed, like a black lightning bolt that burned the air itself. Harris didn't have time to react to the point-blank attack and crossed his arms to shield his face.
There was an ear-splitting explosion, shaking the ground and rising high above the nearby trees, consuming them instantly.
Bill quickly moved away from the area, his internal organs shredded and his mana depleted.
He gritted his teeth, silently praying that Harris had been pulverized by his flames.
But it wasn't so. Bill knew it. He knew that if the system didn't notify him, he couldn't afford to let his guard down. So, he watched intently as his flames consumed the trees, his gaze fixed on the center of the black explosion, waiting with sword in hand for the bastard to emerge from within.