Chương 95: The Final Strike

His sword left a silver afterimage as it sliced towards Garrick's neck.

"Splat!" Garrick's skin and flesh were torn. Blood splashed out, splattering on the body of the blade and dripping onto the ground. However, Kyle didn't look happy; he was stunned. Garrick was leaning deeply backwards, his back parallel to the ground, almost in a 90-degree angle. He was relying solely on his powerful core muscles to keep himself from falling. Kyle's sword was stuck in his mouth. It tore through his cheeks, giving him a hideous wound, but he managed to clamp the blade with his teeth.

His eyes were bloodshot as he glared at Kyle. For a few agonizing seconds, they locked into place. Kyle tried pushing and pulling his sword, but Garrick was biting with all his might. He flexed his legs and core and wrenched himself upright, ripping the blade sideways through his cheeks.

"Heh!" Garrick sneered.

"Ugh!" Kyle's eyes widened as he felt Garrick's knee sinking into his abdomen. The impact sent him tumbling across the ground before crashing into a wooden house, breaking the wooden door and sliding in.

"Cough–Cough!" Kyle coughed repeatedly; blood and bile splashed out of his mouth. His abdominal muscles burned with pain, and his stomach spasmed. He wiped the corner of his mouth and slowly stood up. The only reason why he could still move was that [Reactive Shroud] absorbed some of the impact. The thin magic defense shattered almost immediately, but it blunted the worst of the force. Otherwise, he would have lost all combat capability, leaving him at the mercy of the enemy.

Kyle stumbled through the dilapidated wooden house, walking out of the smashed door and standing on the street once again. Garrick stood not far away, his face dripping blood. A long gash extended from both corners of his mouth to the rest of his face, solidifying into a grotesque wound. He looked at him with bloodshot eyes; his body trembled slightly, but his murderous intent only increased. The corners of his mouth slowly lifted, twisting into an eerie Glasgow smile.

"Y-rh D-ddt," Garrick opened his mouth and said. His tongue, mostly severed, hung by just a thin flap of flesh, dangling from the corner of his mouth. This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Kyle's face twitched at the gruesome sight. He took quick but steady breaths, calming his surging blood and suppressing the agonizing pain from his abdomen and his legs. Tiny red dots rose from Garrick's wounds before flying into the sky.

It was the same case for Kyle, though because his injuries were internal, the number of red dots pulled out from his body was much less than Garrick's. Feeling his slowly weakening body, Kyle clenched his sword.

'I have the strength for just one final strike,' he thought as he slowly took his stance. Looking at Garrick, who also lowered his center of gravity, ready to strike at any moment, Kyle knew that the decisive moment had come. Only one of them would emerge alive, or maybe both would die. Nevertheless, this was the moment Kyle felt closest to death. He started wondering why he was even pushing himself so far. With his speed, Garrick couldn't stop him if he tried to escape.

He could hide, tend to his wounds, and wait for the ritual to be either interrupted or completed before slipping out of Mirevale. Anyway, his power was insignificant on a battlefield of this level. His presence or absence wouldn't change the outcome, so why was he trying so hard?

"Hooo…" Kyle heaved a long sigh. Even he himself didn't understand why he was trying so hard. The only thing he knew was that he didn't want to escape. His eyes sharpened as he looked at Garrick. He would fight to the death with this man. Only one of them today would leave this place alive! Mana rushed towards his four limbs. His calves, already red and swollen, bulged out once again. Veins popped out from all corners of his body as he truly pushed himself to the limit. [Phantom Sword Dance] Kyle disappeared.

Garrick's bloodshot eyes widened. His arm muscles bulged, almost doubling in size. His grip on the sword hilt tightened so much that it creaked. His pupils quickly moved around, following Kyle's movements, raising his sword at the same time. [Power Strike] A second before the two collided–"BOOM!!" An earth-shaking explosion sounded outside Mirevale, followed by the appearance of a mighty aura, shaking every living creature in Mirevale.

A red pillar of light fell from the center of the barrier towards the owner of that terrifying aura, strengthening it at a speed visible to the naked eye. This event shook Garrick, attracting his attention and causing his reaction to slow down by a fraction of a second, and that was enough for Kyle. Four afterimages surrounded Garrick from four directions, each striking at a different angle before converging into a single figure behind him.

"Hooo…" Kyle heaved a long sigh as he slowly sheathed his sword. His chest armor slowly cracked, followed by the appearance of a long but thin wound on his chest, oozing blood. Fortunately, it was just skin deep. The same couldn't be said for Garrick.

"Y–ouu… Rrrr." He struggled to open his mouth; blood seeped out from his neck and the base of his right arm. In the next moment, his head and arm dropped to the ground. Garrick, the former leader of the Bloody Hand, had died. Kyle glanced at the bisected corpse behind him before looking away. He took a deep breath, steadying his shaky body. He was spent; less than 5% of his mana remained, his arms and legs were shaking, and his body was covered with blood. He could barely remain standing.

It took him a few minutes before he barely regained some strength.

"I need to get out of here." Kyle looked at the desolate surroundings and the fire slowly spreading house by house before looking at the teetering red barrier above. Even a normal goblin might be able to take him down now, so he needed to find a place to hide and recuperate as soon as possible.

"Before that…" Kyle's eyes fell on the space and magic rings on Garrick's severed arm. He staggered forward and quickly pulled them from Garrick's fingers, then picked up his sword and walked away.