System Fall

The cawing of some animal in the distance was the only sound that followed the challenge I’d thrown down as the two groups found ourselves in a standoff.

Everyone was frozen, their eyes wide and fixed on me, their expressions in varying stages of disbelief. I meant what I said, I’d already shown the group mercy, and for them to continue acting in a certain way just let me know they’d be a bigger problem in the future and would, if I did nothing, prey on other people.

In my prior life, Aria had always been a believer in collaboration, but she was no pushover. Her kindness was extended only when it was reciprocated. Betray her, hurt her, and she made it a point to collect, threefold, when possible, in resources or damage. I smiled at the memory, of the two, she had always been partial to the former and had times let things go unanswered if the price was right.

James, in contrast, was disciplined in his approach and always tried to see the best in people. Yet, his own self-perceived shortcomings led him to internalize any misfortune as deserved karmic retribution.

I followed more in Selene’s approach. She had been more cynical and why she had ever saved and trained me up to begin with I wouldn’t understand considering her mentality. Still, she instead of seeing the best, had been grounded in realism and saw more of the rest in people, and she answered in kind. Of all those who had survived till the end, Selene was the one who suffered the least when it came to the betrayals of others.

In general, Aria and James avoided conflicts. Whereas Selene wouldn't hesitate to start a fight if it served her interest. Others like Luna I’d never been close enough with to get a feel for their style.

As for me? My style was to end fights, and not just the fight in front of me. I aimed to end every fight I could in the future before it was a problem.

The other group? They were that kind of problem and they were amped up and ready to go. I could see them looking excitedly at the line in the sand, like somehow I had given them permission to give in to some of their worst of impulses and instincts.

Like I said, a problem.

The other group seemed raring to fight, their eyes almost itching to cross the line I'd drawn in the sand.

And then, the first of them stepped forward.

The military-garbed man, his nose still crooked from a previous encounter, was the first to step forward.  "Think you're some big shot, just 'cause you got lucky one time?" He lumbered past my knife, effectively crossing the boundary I'd set. A glowing ax swung from his hand, mirroring his obvious intention

"Hey, Jared, don't push your luck!" one of his companions called out in a nervous tone.

"It's just him and two girls. There’s no way he can beat me twice, he must have had a cheat item," Jared turned back to his group, smirking arrogantly. "Look at his fancy knife and all! He's just a show-off, a nobody."

Spurred on by his own words, Jared bent down to grab the Azure Gleam Knife I had placed as a boundary marker, not realizing just what exactly was about to happen.

He tossed it aside. “Trash.”

I laughed, a clear and cold laugh. "Well, well, look at you. Ugly and stupid. You didn't learn your lesson the first time, huh?"

He responded with an animal yell, his face contorted in rage and anger. “I’ll show you. You can’t beat my new ability!"

Suddenly, his ax erupted into red flames, a powerful aura surrounded the weapon. He yelled a again, a battle and propelled himself forward with a burst of speed I assumed can from his status.

Killing intent was telegraphed all over his face when he lunged at me. Flames trailed behind cast off by his eyes. He grinned when he brought the ax up and over his head, thinking he’d managed to catch me unaware or unable to stand against him.

If he had been paying attention, he would have seen the glint in my eye.

"You've crossed the line," I said, a predatory grin creeping onto my face as I picked up my Azure Gleam Knife to meet his charge.

The man’s flaming ax swept down in a brutal arc aimed at my head, an unmistakable intent to kill. I shifted to the side, narrowly avoiding the flaming weapon as it whistled past my ear, the heat hot on my skin but didn’t do damage.

With skill born from countless fights, I went underneath his attack at angle. He’d crossed a line he’d never cross again. My first target was his left knee. My knife went in a upward arc, the sharp blade cutting through his military fatigues and biting into the flesh beneath. A scream of pain followed as he buckled, his leg no longer able to support his weight.

Before he had a chance to regain his balance and anyone had I chance to help him, I spun, targeting his other leg. My blade sang as it sliced through the air and into his other thigh, opening a gaping wound that started gushing blood. I didn’t stop. I didn't have the luxury of mercy in this fight. I’d already given him a chance and he’d come back at me biting.

I stepped back as he crumpled onto the ground. But he wasn’t done yet. Ignoring the throbbing pain in his legs, he tried to swing his ax at me. I could see the bitterness in his eyes. I moved. With precision and deadly accuracy, I thrust my knife into his shoulder, cutting through muscle and sinew, and into the bone. His arm went limp, the flaming ax falling from his hand with a dull thud.

I pulled my knife free, blood splattering on the ground, only to drive it home once more, this time into his other shoulder. “This could have all been avoided, if you’d just tried to be a decent human being. Or at least take the hint the first time.”

The sight of their companion lying in a bloody mess must have sparked in the rest of them.

"Attack!" a voice roared from the other groups side, a mix of rage and fear contorting the speaker's face.

Their attack was chaotic, as messy as a tavern brawl. Not the practiced coordination of a seasoned guild, but a frantic, disorganized charge driven by the raw instinct to avenge their fallen ally. The came at me, , a swordsmen in the words.

I moved and evaded and countered with a rapid, punishing kick to his abdomen. He yelped, air fleeing his lungs as he was sent tumbling back, a human wrecking ball crashing into his advancing comrades.

"Form ranks! Don't let him escape!" commanded the other groups’ leader. , attempting to bring semblance to their chaotic formation.

But their disarray played into my favor. Like a shadow cat among deer, my movements were swift and deadly. Another attempted to flank me, gripping a steel pipe like a baseball bat. He swung, aiming to take cave in part of my head, but I was faster, side-stepping the amateur attack and retaliated with a swift slash of my knife.

A red line appeared across his chest, his surprise echoing in a pained gasp as he stumbled back, clutching his wound.

Next, a brute barreled toward me, crowbar swinging wildly.

"You're dead!" he bellowed, before doing a wide attack that hit nothing. A swift uppercut from me sent him sprawling backwards to land on the ground.

"Get up! Fight him! Fight!" a voice wailed from the enemy ranks, desperation seeping into their morale.

The rest of them swarmed around me, their attacks growing more frantic and uncoordinated. It was a good opportunity for me to set an example. They all learned a harsh lesson this night: I wasn't an enemy to be taken lightly.

A lot quicker than the other side thought was going to happen, it was over. The ground was strewn with blood. Amid the moans of the injured, those who had instigated fighting at me were silent.  The group leader stood in the aftermath of the battle, his face pale as death, a newfound understanding etched into his eyes: I was not an enemy to be underestimated.

"What the hell are you all waiting for? There's only one of him, only one!” Jared spat out, his voice betraying his pain. His body was bloody ruin and in places the injury had run deep enough to show the muscle. No one from his group moved to try and help him at all

I observed his agony with cold detachment.

My gaze returned to Anthony. "Leave."

"I told you to leave" I commanded again.

His followers lay scattered around, most of whom would be able to fight again.

"And give Alvin back!" Willow insisted, her voice carrying far.

Anthony's smirk didn't fade, even as he surveyed the aftermath of his failed assault. "And why should we do that? Jared here and my fellows have suffered thanks to your brash attack. Shouldn't we exact an equal price from Alvin? Leaders should be held accountable for their followers' actions, shouldn't they?"

A ripple of agreement passed through his remaining followers, one of them closing in on Alvin, a wicked-looking dagger glinting.

 

"You're mistaken," I declared, addressing Anthony and his remaining followers. They had made the wrong assumptions about me.  

"I stand alone. I’m not anyone’s boss or leader.” I let my words hang between us, a threat that was clear as day.

"You crossed the line."

Anthony's smirk finally slipped, replaced by a grimace. His remaining followers hesitated, glancing at each other. The tide had turned.

"Now," I said, the single word slicing through the tense silence. “You lost your chance.”

I had fought humans before in far grimmer circumstances before. I wasn't impervious to harm, but these amateurs lacked the experience of a true battle. I moved with deadly precision, slicing, cutting, slashing. I hardly held myself back at all.

I had faced down hordes of the undead in the Beginning Tutorial nonchalantly, showcasing a dance of might and elegance. Later, in the depths of the Hidden Dungeon, I had fought with a more serious demeanor, but even those battles seemed less intense compared to the current spectacle.

They were helpless against me.

For those who had never felt the sharp sting of injury, even a single cut could feel as if the world was ending. The initial shock of pain, a new and terrifying sensation, was often more than people could bear. I dished out plenty of it. They were ill-prepared for the unique suffering of lacerated muscles and pierced tendons.

They were reading for suffocating dust and dirt kicked into their faces, or the  agony of a deep gash from shoulder to hip. They were out of their depth.

Eventually, their agonized screams tapered off into feeble whimpers. The night reclaimed the battlefield, I stood at the heart of the devastation, drenched in blood and perspiration.

I hadn't instigated this conflict.

But I had decisively ended it.

I looked over at the carnage. “All you had to do was leave.”

With a flick of my wrist, I cleared my sword of the lingering blood and sheathed it with a firm, resolute motion. Turning back to the dying embers of the fire, I left Jared unconscious on the ground, his consciousness stolen by pain or blood loss. Instead, my focus shifted to the meal interrupted by the skirmish. The fight had rekindled my hunger, and I wasn't about to waste the opportunity for a well-earned feast.