The forest was silent except for the sound of steel meeting steel.

Clang.

Sparks showered down like falling stars in the darkness.

Marcus didn't blink. His eyes were wide and dry.

He watched the blade of Elowen's longsword slide against his rusty dagger.

He saw the friction. He saw the tiny chips of metal flying off.

He felt the vibration travel down his arm. It rattled his bones.

But it felt distant.

It was information. Just data to be processed.

Elowen pushed him back. Her strength was overwhelming.

Marcus skid backward. His boots dug trenches in the dirt.

He didn't stumble. He kept his center of gravity low.

He looked at her.

The world seemed to move through a thick, clear gel.

He could see Elowen's pupil dilate. He could see the sweat on her upper lip.

He could see the muscles in her shoulder bunching up.

'Right shoulder,' Marcus analyzed. 'Raising two inches.'

His mind calculated the trajectory instantly.

She was going for a diagonal slash. From the top right to the bottom left.

Target: Clavicle to hip.

Lethality: High.

'Dodge left,' his mind commanded. 'Step at forty-five degrees.'

He sent the signal to his legs.

Move. Now.

His brain fired the impulse. It screamed at his muscles to contract.

But his body was slow.

It was a mundane body. It had no mana reinforcement. It had broken ribs.

His legs tried to push off. They lagged behind his perception.

The sword came down.

It was a blur of blue light.

Marcus moved. But not fast enough.

Whoosh.

The tip of the blade caught his left shoulder.

It sliced through his clothes. It sliced through skin and muscle.

Blood sprayed into the air.

Marcus didn't flinch. He didn't gasp.

He noted the injury.

'Deep cut.'

He filed the pain away into a dark box in his mind.

It didn't matter.

He was still standing.

Elowen stepped back. She looked at the blood on her sword.

She looked at him. Her expression was a mix of confusion and horror.

"Why?" she whispered. "Why aren't you screaming?"

She had cut him deep. He should be rolling on the ground.

But he was just staring at her.

He adjusted his grip on the dagger. His hand was steady.

"Next," Marcus whispered.

Elowen grit her teeth. A vein pulsed in her forehead.

"You are a monster," she spat.

She lunged again.

She didn't use finesse this time. She used speed.

She thrust the sword toward his stomach.

Marcus saw it coming before she even moved her foot.

'Linear thrust. Speed: Fast. Correction needed.'

He twisted his torso.

His broken ribs ground together. The sound was audible inside his skull.

Crunch.

He ignored it.

The sword passed his waist. It tore through his shirt. It grazed his side.

A line of fire erupted on his skin.

'Surface wound,' Marcus noted.

He saw an opening.

Her arm was extended. Her guard was down for a fraction of a second.

'Strike.'

He swung the dagger.

He aimed for her wrist.

But his arm was heavy. The blood loss was slowing him down.

The dagger moved too slow.

Elowen saw it. She yanked her arm back.

The dagger missed her wrist. It scratched her forearm guard.

Screech.

Metal on leather. No damage.

Elowen countered. She backhanded him with the pommel of her sword.

Crack.

It hit him in the jaw.

Marcus's head snapped back. Stars exploded in his vision.

He tasted copper. A tooth was loose.

He stumbled back. He caught his balance against a tree.

He spat blood onto the ground.

He looked up immediately. He reset his focus.

'She lost tempo,' he analyzed. 'Recovering.'

Elowen panted. She stared at him.

She was uninjured. He was a mess.

But she was the one who looked cornered.

"Stop looking at me like that!" she shrieked.

She charged.

She swung the sword in a wild flurry.

Left. Right. Thrust. Chop.

Marcus danced on the edge of death.

He ducked. The blade took a lock of his hair.

He sidestepped. The blade nicked his ear.

He blocked. The impact jarred his shoulder.

He was accumulating damage.

Cut on the thigh. Cut on the cheek. Bruise on the forearm.

His body was failing. It couldn't keep up with the commands.

'System failure imminent,' his mind warned. 'Blood loss critical.'

He needed to end this.

He couldn't win a battle of attrition.

He needed to trade.

He needed to take a hit to give a hit.

He watched her patterns.

She favored her right side. She dropped her left shoulder when she swung low.

'There,' Marcus spotted it.

A tiny gap in her defense. Just under her ribs.

But to reach it, he had to get inside her reach.

He had to walk into the blade.

Elowen swung horizontally. Aimed at his neck.

'Duck,' his instincts screamed.

'No,' his mind countered. 'Advance.'

Marcus stepped forward.

He didn't duck. He raised his left arm.

He offered his arm to the blade.

It was madness. It was suicide.

Elowen's eyes widened. She couldn't stop the swing.

The sword bit into his left forearm.

It hit the bone.

Thunk.

The pain was blinding. It was white-hot agony.

Marcus didn't scream. He didn't stop.

He used the impact to pivot.

He stepped in close. He was chest to chest with her.

He could smell her perfume. It smelled of roses and iron.

He raised his right hand. The rusty dagger was poised.

Elowen tried to pull her sword back. It was stuck in his arm.

She looked at his face.

He was smiling.

It wasn't a happy smile. It was a predator's baring of teeth.

"Got you," he rasped.

He drove the dagger forward.

He aimed for the gap in her armor.

Elowen threw herself backward. She let go of her sword hilt.

She moved fast, but not fast enough.

Slash.

The dagger caught her.

It sliced across her upper arm. Just below the shoulder.

It tore through the silk of her dress. It tore through the skin.

Blood welled up

Elowen gasped.

She stared at her arm.

"You..." she stammered. "You cut me."

She looked up at him.

Marcus stood there. Her sword was still embedded in his left arm.

He grabbed the hilt with his right hand.

He gritted his teeth and pulled it.

Squelch.

The sword slid out. Blood poured from the wound.

He dropped her sword to the ground.

He held his rusty dagger. It was dripping with her blood.

Elowen stared at him.

Her shock turned into rage. Pure, unadulterated fury.

A slave had hurt her. A piece of property had drawn her blood.

It was unacceptable. It was heresy.

She reached into her spatial storage again.

She pulled out a second sword.

This one was different.

It was made of silver steel. Runes were etched along the blade.

It hummed with power.

"I am going to kill you," Elowen said. Her voice was low and trembling.

"I am going to chop you into tiny pieces."

She channeled her mana.

Blue light exploded from her body and flowed into the sword.

The runes lit up. The blade glowed with intense energy.

The air around her distorted.

Marcus watched her.

He swayed slightly. His vision was tunneling.

He looked at his rusty dagger.

It was chipped. It was old.

It wouldn't hold.

'Probability of survival: Low.'

He adjusted his grip anyway.

Elowen didn't wait.

She launched herself at him.

She was a streak of blue light.

She swung.

Marcus barely saw it.

He raised the dagger to deflect.

CLANG.

The impact threw him back five feet.

He landed on his feet, but he slid.

His hand was numb. The dagger vibrated.

Elowen was on him instantly.

She slashed downward.

Marcus blocked again.

CRACK.

A hairline fracture appeared on the dagger blade.

"Die!" Elowen screamed.

She slashed sideways.

Marcus ducked.

She kicked him in the chest.

Thud.

He flew backward and hit a tree trunk.

He slid down to the roots.

He gasped for air. Blood bubbled past his lips.

Elowen stood over him.

She raised the sword high.

She poured more mana into it and brought the sword down.

It was a vertical strike. It was meant to cleave him in half.

Marcus couldn't dodge. He was pinned against the tree.

His legs wouldn't work.

He looked at the descending blade.

He raised the rusty dagger. He held it with both hands, but it was a futile gesture.

The glowing sword hit the dagger.

CRACK!

The rusty metal couldn't withstand the mana.

It shattered.

He closed his eyes.

He waited for the cold steel. He waited for the end.

'I tried,' he thought. 'I really tried.'

'I wonder if the dragon girl was able to escape?'

The sword continued its path.

It was inches from his forehead.

Then...

A sound cut through the forest.

Tang.

It was a sharp, clear sound.

It sounded like a bell being struck by a hammer.

Marcus flinched.

But the sword didn't hit him.

He opened his eyes.

The tip of Elowen's sword was falling.

It spun through the air and landed in the dirt next to his leg.

The cut was clean. It was perfectly smooth.

Elowen held the hilt.

The glowing blue energy flickered and died.

She stared at the broken weapon.

She blinked. Her mouth opened.

"What?" she whispered.

She looked at the smooth edge of the break.

It was impossible.

Her sword was reinforced with mana. It was a master-crafted weapon.

Nothing could cut it. Not like that.

Marcus looked up.

He looked past Elowen.

He looked at the trees behind her.

The wind picked up. It rustled the leaves.

The temperature in the clearing dropped.

It wasn't just cold. It was freezing.

A voice floated down from above.

It was a female voice.

It was calm. It was melodious.

And it was colder than the deepest winter.

"I gave you one chance."

Elowen froze. Her shoulders stiffened.

She knew that voice.

But it sounded different. Older. Deeper.

"I told you I disliked unnecessary violence," the voice continued.

Marcus craned his neck. He looked up into the branches of a massive oak tree.

Elowen turned around slowly. Her hands shook.

There, standing on a thick branch, was a figure.

It was a woman.

She looked to be in her early twenties.

She wore a pristine white dress that flowed around her legs like mist.

Her hair was pitch black. It was long and straight, falling down her back like a curtain of night.

Her skin was pale as moonlight.

She looked down at them.

Her eyes were black.

But now, they held something else.

They held judgment.

"But make no mistake," the woman said.

She stepped off the branch.

She didn't fall. She floated down.

Her feet touched the grass silently.

She looked at Elowen.

"There won't be a second chance."

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