238: Proper Opponent

Proper Opponent

Duplicarius Zehr picked up a weighty rock, tossing it up and down in his hands. 2

In a smooth and practiced motion, quite different from his pilum throwing, Zehr stepped out and flung it, utilizing a near-full rotation of his body.

It looked so natural... so casual. But the speed of the thrown rock was as if it was shot from a sling. Decanus Justus tried his best to memorize the movements.

"Th-they're moving," Rena warned, her voice cracking with worry. "B-be careful, Zehr... And Justus. You, be especially careful!"

Justus felt his eyebrow twitch in annoyance, "I'm always careful."

"I think Miss Rena means: Don't underestimate your opponents," Gia offered with a reassuring smile.

"Right. Makes sense," Justus nodded.

They spilled out of the darkness of the tower.

A trio of charred black skeletons lumbered forward, dragging their limbs over stone and dirt as if they still remembered their injuries. The metal pieces of their armor were cracked, broken, and covered in rust. The leather underneath were discolored by age, tattered and torn.

Two of them carried weapons-- ruined curved swords, one broken in half, and the other as rusted as the armor they wore.

"Hm..." Zehr pondered, "Gianna, I'd like you to engage with the two swordsmen. Allow Justus the third."

Justus frowned, "Zehr, I was hoping to fight properly."

"I know," Zehr shrugged. He tossed his own sword, spinning up into the air... and it stuck, blade down into the dirt in front of the unarmed skeleton.

Green flames lit in the ebony skeleton's eyes as it drew the Decanus sword out of the dirt. It flourished the blade, feeling its weight in its hands, and nodded to itself.

"Wh-what's going on? Why... what?" Rena began to panic, "I thought skeletons were mindless?!"

Zehr chuckled derisively, "It depends on the ritual that instilled undeath into them. These are Nemayan undead. They retain their military training, fighting similar to as they did in life. They never break formation, they always obey orders, and they are incapable of fear."

"Flame, take me..." Justus cursed. His stomach roiled in protest as it threatened to eject its contents.

Why did he think this was going to be easy? As long as he'd known Zehr-- nothing that had to do with the green-haired Duplicarius was easy.

"Justus, Gianna..." Zehr pointed forward, "Engage."

...

As soon as Justus charged forward, Tycondrius dashed to the left side. Gianna dashed to the right, keeping her shield towards the enemy.

It was a simple exercise, but required a bit of finagling to work properly. He watched as Justus blocked the skeleton's first attack--

Hah.

The Decanus sword with Rena's holy enchantment struck Justus' shield, bursting in silvery light. The boy staggered back, unbalanced.

The skeleton would have a similar strength to what they had in life-- powered by whatever dark energies kept it moving. The young fool had likely grown used to the weak strikes of the kobolds.

Tycon looked across the way. He and Gianna had formed a triangle around the three skeletons.

The blonde woman charged in with her shield-- without her hair tied or a helmet, her hair streamed behind her like a goddess of war. She collided with the two other skeletons in a crash of steel. They struck the ground-- one landing hard, the other rolling acrobatically, back to the standing.

Tycon grabbed onto that skeleton's sword-wrist, pulled downward, and kicked at its ankle. It dropped to the dirt, like the other. He pried the sword out of its cold, bony fingers, kicked it in the skull, and walked off.

Gianna had re-engaged with her opponent. Tycon figured he'd disarm that one, too, to ensure the Shield Maiden's safety, then retreat to watch Justus fight...

...

Justus blocked another sword strike, hiding behind his shield. The blows were heavy, his opponent was stronger than anyone he'd ever dueled before.

It was embarrassing.

He clenched his teeth and stabbed out. TING! The skeleton struck his sword, forcing Justus to swing his arm back, opening his guard. What the--? He had nearly lost his grip. He raised his shield up, directing it to block another two sword slashes.

He peeked over his shield, observing the enemy.

It attacked... Again and again...

The enemy's attacks fell upon his shield in a rhythm. It went on, never slowing.

Argh... Flame... take... this bastard. It was a skeleton soldier. It knew no fear. It knew no *fatigue* either. Flame take me...

Justus' own arm would grow tired from the rattling attacks-- he couldn't just watch and wait... And he couldn't just block and rely on the Munifex to his left or right, like in a real battle.

But he had the timing down... If he could just...

Justus saw the shield spark from a diagonal slash towards his left. The enemy was open! He dropped his left shoulder and began to swing his sword--

To see the Decanus blade swipe inches away from his eyes. The skeleton had turned its body, spinning its blade and utilizing the rotation to slice opposite from its earlier slash.

What... what technique was that? That wasn't even a skill?! They didn't teach anything like that in Tyrion military doctrine?!

Justus leapt back, cold chills shocking his spine. He had nearly taken an injury that would have ended his adventuring career.

"The Nemayan soldiers use blades 6 inches to a foot longer than Tyrion swords," Zehr's voice warned.

Eh? Justus glanced back. He didn't notice when the Duplicarius arrived. How much of his embarrassing fight had he seen?

"It appears your opponent hasn't gotten used to his weapon yet," Zehr rolled his eyes.

Justus observed his opponent... The skeleton's green-flame eyes were staring emotionlessly at the short blade in its hands.

He gulped. Thinking back, he should have noticed that the blade's initial strike was light... It was a trick... a set-up for the second, killing attack.

"Tss..." Zehr scoffed, "You've done well during the sun, young Decanus. But right now, you seem intent on *wasting* my time."

Justus grit his teeth in frustration.

He was a Holy Swordsman, a class belonging to myths and legends! Every Holy Swordsman before him was a hero known for crusading against evil. Undead... demons... wicked villains throughout the ages would fall against their enchanted evil-slaying swords.

Justus lunged forward, a swirl of golden mana coating his sword, "⌈Blessed Blade!!⌋"

With this blade, he would show Zehr his determination. It had to work! It just had to!

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