Luke Pyle

Chapter 10:- I get mugged, Nether Style

“Die,”the man commanded as the white light solidified into a long sword. I leaped backwards just enough to be at the tip of the sword and parried it. The sword flew out of his hand and landed impaled in the ground.

The man held his hand to his side and another sword formed.

“You can summon swords,”I guessed.

Rather than replying, he lunged at me with one sword and slashed with the other. I barely had time to duck. This man clearly had years of experience with swordplay to compliment his ability.

“Incinerate!”I shouted as I summoned a column of flames from my hands.

“Shadow shield,”came another voice - a girl's voice. A pitch black set of scales appeared right in front of my hand. It reflected the flames, scorching my fingertips. I immediately willed the flames to die out.

I turned and saw a girl with long, wavy, brown hair. She wore a plain black T-shirt and light blue jeans, along with black Nike sneakers. She wore a mask as well - white on one half, black on the other, with a wicked grin and sneering eyes as if laughing at you.

I bit back a curse as I planned how to go about fighting these two. Without leaving me a second to react, the swordsman slashed sidewards. The only thought that passed through my mind was a wish for a shield. Then came a clang. Where the sword was headed, there was now a column of stone risen from the ground.

While one of the swordsman’s swords was stuck inside the stone, I took my opportunity to strike, and lashed at him with my sword. As I felt victorious, I felt a tug at the blade of my sword. To my side there was another boy of about my age.

“My, you're so predictable,”he taunted with a rich British accent. He wore an expensive looking greyish-white tuxedo with a silver tie. His shiny, gelled hair was black in colour. He too had -guess what?- a mask. This one was like a clock, with each marking along the edges and clock hands coming from where his nose is. The seconds hand was five seconds ahead of the minute hand.

I touched my hand to my free sword’s blade and produced a spark of electricity. It flowed through the blade and a second before it hit the guy, he vanished. He reappeared next to a boy similar to himself wearing a blackish grey tuxedo and with the same hair. His mask was the same clock, but the seconds hand was five seconds behind the minute hand. He held a bow in his hand and a quiver of arrows was slung around his back.

“You're welcome, dear brother,”he spoke with the same British accent, but a slightly deeper voice.

“Any more of you here?”I asked.

Rather than anyone replying, the swordsman summoned another figure of light, this time much bigger. A handle appeared, with blades of a broadsword bigger than my torso on each side of it. It must have weighed a ton, but that didn't seem to bother him. He spun it around like it weighed nothing and charged at me.

Fortunately, he moved slower and I was easily able to dodge him. As I strafed to the left I felt heat on my back, until suddenly I felt a hole in my shirt and summoned flames, then flew around screaming in agonizing pain.

I saw that where the girl was, now there was a man, wearing the same clothes and having short brown hair. A beam of light was shooting from his hand to where I used to be.

My thoughts were interrupted when I saw an arrow flying towards my head.

I thought that was the end for me. But what followed was far worse. When the arrow hit me, rather than piercing through me, I reappeared in my previous position. The scorching pain in my back returned and intensified. I fell to my knees, writhing in pain.

A blade appeared beneath my chin.

“Any last words?”the swordsman asked.

I remained silent. I was ashamed with myself for being defeated so easily, not even landing a single attack on the enemies.

“My policy is to always remove my mask before I kill someone,”he continued, “so that they may never rest, remembering my face.”

He pulled off his mask, and I gasped when I saw his face.

“Daiki?” I asked.

Judging by his facial expression, he must have been shocked to find that I knew his name.

“Who are you?”he asked, clearly vexed with me.

As I said it, a look of dread passed over his face.

“It's me, Luke. Your brother.”