MCSM: Shattered Souls [COMPLETED]

22- In Which I Put Too Much Faith In My Swordfighting Abilities

His expression hardly changed as he asked, "What?"

"A duel. Fair swordfight. One-on-one. No more trials, no more tricks." I clarified. He arched an eyebrow at me.

"I hardly think a duel between us would be fair. I trust you haven't forgotten what I can do?"

As if I could, with the horrible pool of blood that had once been Jaq right behind me. "So turn yourself into a more fitting form. And I know you have an Aristan sword too." I snapped.

A slight smile appeared on his dark face, showing a hint of sharp teeth. "Jesse, you don't need to be so confrontational. You're the last Shard. You survived. You won."

I shook my head. "I don't care. This was never about 'winning' for me. I didn't want anything to do with this. I didn't want to come here, I didn't want to go through your stupid trials, and I'm not letting myself get tricked into anything else."

303 tipped his head forward slightly, narrowing his eyes. "What do you gain from this? You could still die in a fair swordfight."

"Yes, but it'd be on my terms. If I'm doomed to lay as inventory pile in the Farlands, I want it to be because I chose to fight. None of the Shards got a say in their death, only you did. If I'm going down, I'm going down with a sword in my hand."

He just looked at me, and I took in a deep breath. "If I lose, you can kill me, and if I disarm you, I get to go home. I'm done with this."

The monster before me was still and silent for a few moments more, before he began to shimmer and disappear from the ground up. In his place was a tall man with greyish-brown skin, thin black hair, and the same, PAMA-reminiscent, bright red eyes. He wore simple black clothes and a long red coat that swept the ground of the arena. Looking over at me, he reached into his inventory and revealed his Aristan sword, a citrine-hued blade that shone with every colour of the sunrise.

"So you want a duel." 303 mused, never breaking eye contact. I adjusted my grip on the brilliantly rainbow sword, nodding. Entity 303 swirled his orange blade through the air a few times, then completely without warning or preparation, launched himself at me. 

I was already tensed to spring, and I dodged effortlessly as his leap brought him right in front of where I had just been. I stabbed my sword towards him and he immediately brought his arm up, our blades clanging against each other.

He sidestepped away, swinging the weapon in a downward arc towards my legs. I blocked him, using my sword to twist his away.

His attacks came fast and confident, but I deflected them just as quickly, easily parrying every lunge and flick of his sword. I managed to throw in a few moves of my own, swiping my blade at him as he danced away from me. Neither of us said a thing, no taunts, negotiations, or even shouts of exertion. Just quiet, roiling, determination.

It wasn't long before he began to press his advantage, moving quicker, strikes becoming harder, more weight being put behind each blow. I knew he wasn't going to let me win. I knew this was almost certainly my last fight, that there was no way I'd be walking away from here alive.

And I didn't care. If I had to die, it might as well be here. I was tired of all of this, sick of carrying the weight of all that had happened. I knew full well that if he won, he'd be able to escape to the Overworld, and as much as I knew I had to prevent that, I was nearly ready to give up. Not ready to throw the fight, but ready to accept defeat when it came.

Our fight quickly reached its peak. Entity 303's human form was taller than me, with more reach to his arms, so he didn't have to get as close to strike me. I dodged and lunged with ease, but I was slowly beginning to tire, and it was getting easier for him to get through my guard.

I didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me weaken. I moved simply and quickly, only striking where I needed. He was proving to be a slightly more show-offy kind of fighter, making extravagant lunges and fancy twists of his sword. He stepped away and circled me, holding his sword up to show that he could attack again at any moment. 

The stone was cold under my feet as I watched him slink around. He moved with the perfect grace of a skilled predator, and I couldn't help but wonder if he'd been some kind of villain even before he became Entity 303.

He lunged for me again, and I swung my sword up to meet him partway. The blades clashed, both of us putting our full weights against the weapons. I pulled back a few steps, lifting my sword over my head and planning to bring it down on him.

But I didn't get the chance.

I had stepped just out of my range, but not out of his. He moved fast enough that I hardly saw him, instantly closing the meager gap between us. Having switched his sword to the other hand, he reached up and snatched my swordarm. He may not've had the ability to take my Aristan sword, but he prevented me from fighting back when he plunged the sunset blade into my right side. 

Hot, fiery pain erupted from where the sword had gone in. I struggled to catch my breath as he yanked the sword out, letting go of my wrist. I couldn't move, couldn't scream, couldn't think of anything but this is it. I'm done.

I stared down at the wound. It was bleeding something awful, and it hurt like hell, but it wasn't that deep.

Not that it mattered. He may not have gotten me anywhere immediately fatal, but any stab wound can kill you if given enough time to bleed.

That's when it hit me, even more shocking than the pain. I was bleeding badly, and would be dying soon.

But I wasn't dust.

Through my haze of pain, I realized Entity 303 was staring between me and the orange sword in his hand. I didn't understand how I was still alive, but I knew this was my only chance. While he was gazing dumbfounded at the bloodstained weapon, I raised my own sword and drove it straight into his chest.

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This was so short I'm sCREAMING-

Word count- 1112 (I literally can't even care right now hhnnnn)