The silver Knight

Rai moved forward, his breath sharp and shallow, each step driven by raw instinct. The air grew heavy with a sickening, coppery stench—the unmistakable scent of blood. He was close now, so close he could feel the oppressive presence of the figure ahead.

He didn't think, didn't hesitate. His hand shot out, his fingers brushing cold metal—armor. Smooth, unyielding, and close enough to strike. Without a moment's pause, Rai summoned his veil, releasing a sharp beam of light.

The darkness exploded into brilliance, the white light consuming everything in its path. The bronze armor shattered under the impact, shards of metal bursting outward like jagged sparks. Rai glimpsed the figure behind it, the massive man staggering backward, his footing faltering under the sheer force of the blast.

In the brief flare of illumination, the scene crystallized in Rai's mind—the jagged edges of the broken armor, the man's shadowed face recoiling, and then the return of the black void as the light faded. Silence followed, broken only by the metallic clang of armor fragments hitting the ground.

Rai's eyes caught the faintest glint—a widening pair staring back at him through the shadows. The figure steadied itself, the weight of its massive frame shifting as it prepared to strike again. Then, without warning, the weapon lunged forward, thrusting toward Rai with brutal speed.

The motion was relentless, one strike after another, so quick that the air seemed to ripple. The weapon moved faster than Rai's eyes could follow, each thrust blurring into the next. It was as though three identical weapons were aimed at him simultaneously, though Rai knew it was just one, wielded with terrifying skill.

He twisted and turned, narrowly evading each deadly jab. Every dodge was a gamble, the weapon passing so close to his body that he could feel the rush of displaced air against his skin. Behind him, the sound of each thrust tearing into the void filled the space—a horrible ripping noise that echoed off unseen walls.

Rai realized, with a cold knot of dread in his stomach, the intent behind those strikes. These weren't warning blows or attempts to intimidate; each thrust was meant to kill. The tearing sounds at his back were a haunting reminder of what would happen if he faltered. If that weapon connected, even once, he wouldn't be alive to hear the sound of his body breaking.

The thought drove him forward, his every movement sharp and deliberate, his mind racing as he fought to stay ahead of the deadly rhythm.

"I can't let my veil vanish now. If I do, I'm finished," Rai thought, his mind racing. He leapt as the massive weapon swept toward his legs, the ground beneath him splitting apart under its force. Where he had stood a moment before was now empty space, the earth gouged clean by the sheer weight of the strike.

But Rai wasn't falling. In a flash of instinct, he planted his foot on the weapon's shaft, using the momentum of the swing to propel himself upward. He soared into the air, carried by the force, his body twisting above his opponent like a feather caught in the wind.

For a fleeting moment, he hovered just above the man's head, peering down. The barbarian's face was a mask of fury and surprise, his mouth agape, his eyes wide and gleaming in the faint light of Rai's veil. "You're nothing but a brute!" Rai shouted, his voice sharp with focus.

The beam burst from his hand, white and searing, a lance of energy plunging into the barbarian's open mouth. Rai landed behind his opponent with practiced precision, crouched low and steady as the room fell silent but for the groaning of the injured.

The barbarian stood frozen, his hulking form trembling. For a moment, he seemed to swell unnaturally, his thick body straining, trying to contain the power that had pierced him. Then, with a ghastly inevitability, blood erupted from his mouth, his nostrils, his eyes, and his ears all at once. He stumbled forward, his steps faltering, lifting his weapon towards Rai.

The opponent shifted his stance, his weapon swinging in a wide arc as his entire body followed, turning into a whirlwind of bronze and steel. The speed of his motion grew with every spin, a blur of deadly intent, and he barreled toward Rai like an unstoppable force.

Rai stood firm, his muscles tensed, his breath sharp and shallow. His mind screamed at him to act, but before he could move, the weapon was upon him—an inch from his shoulder. His eyes widened, catching the glint of jagged spikes that promised to tear through flesh as easily as cloth.

The blow landed with a sickening thud, driving deep into his shoulder. Pain shot through Rai like a lightning strike, and he stumbled backward, one hand clutching at the broken joint as blood seeped between his fingers. His boots dragged across the ground, leaving long, crimson-streaked marks as he fought to stay upright.

For a moment, he turned his head and smiled—a flicker of defiance, of strategy unspoken. But the spinning figure gave him no time to act. Again, the weapon slammed into Rai's wounded shoulder, this time with punishing force. The impact sent him hurtling through the air, blood trailing in an arc behind him like a comet's tail.

He hit the ground hard, skidding to a stop near what appeared to be an archway of stone. Pain dulled his senses for a breathless moment, but his veil shimmered to life, keeping him steady. Through the haze of agony, he pieced together his surroundings. The absence of walls, the vast emptiness he had passed through before—it all made sense now. This was no path. It was a fighting arena, and he had entered its heart.

Grimacing, Rai staggered to his feet and darted into the darkened corridor he had come through. His veil flickered and then vanished, leaving him in shadow. He stood there at the entrance, breathing hard, his gaze fixed on the battlefield he had just fled. 

With startling speed, something gleamed in the dim light—a flash of metal, deadly and precise. The weapon sliced through the air, thrust forward with brutal intent, narrowly missing its mark. Rai twisted just in time, the blade skimming past him by a breath. His heart raced as he stepped aside, his mind sharp with the realization that one slip could mean the end. He clenched his jaw, reminding himself to stay alert.

"Your arm's broken! You're as good as dead now!" came a deep, thunderous roar, the sound rumbling through the dark space like a predator's growl. Rai winced at the words, the mocking certainty of them, but he didn't let his opponent see the hesitation that gripped him.

The weapon came again, thrusting with relentless force, its reach longer than before. Rai was forced to step back, his boots scraping against the stone floor. He could see now—the man had entered the narrow passage, using the confined space to his advantage, driving Rai backward with each calculated lunge.

It was a clever move, Rai admitted to himself, his mind already racing to counter it. The thrusts weren't random; each one was deliberate, probing, designed to corner him. He wiped a sheen of sweat from his brow, gritting his teeth. Clever, yes. But not unbeatable.

He can't stand upright in here, Rai thought, his eyes tracing the jagged ceiling above. The rocky surface pressed close enough to scrape the head of anyone taller than him, a dangerous disadvantage for his opponent.

The path was a tunnel of pure darkness, oppressive and thick, but Rai stood still, unyielding. He summoned his veil, and a radiant light burst around him, cutting through the black. For a moment, it blinded the towering figure before him. The man flinched, his massive form awkwardly hunched to avoid the low ceiling.

When his opponent's eyes adjusted, they widened in disbelief. Rai was holding his weapon now, his grip steady and firm. He tilted his head slightly, a smile tugging at his lips. "This," Rai said, his voice calm and measured, "is how you use a weapon like this."

A sharp pulse of light surged from Rai's veil, running the length of the weapon and blasting outward in a straight, searing line. The weapon flew from Rai's hands. It connected perfectly with the man's head. The giant staggered, his crouched form collapsing like a beast brought to its knees. He rolled backward, the force of the strike sending him tumbling across the narrow space.

The weapon was spinning wildly before slamming into the far wall with a resounding crash. Its long shaft quivered, vibrating against the stone like a loose bowstring.

Rai stood in silence, watching the aftermath. He let the veil dim, its glow receding until the tunnel returned to shadow. Without looking back, he turned and walked forward, the faint echo of his footsteps the only sound left in the hollow passage.

"How did you?!" the opponent roared, his voice thick with fury and disbelief.

Rai, still rolling his shoulder to ease the ache, glanced back with a faint smile. "I thought that move would knock you out for a few minutes at least," he said casually, "but here you are, still talking."

He flexed his injured arm, wincing slightly but continuing to stretch it. "I concentrated my veil into this hand," Rai explained, his tone almost conversational, "so I could use your own weapon against you. Unlucky for me, you started spinning and managed to land a hit on my shoulder—the very arm I'd reinforced with my veil. That's why the damage was less than you expected." He straightened, his expression sharpening as he stepped closer to his defeated opponent, who lay slumped and surrounded by a dark pool of blood. "I let you think my arm was useless. You fell for it completely."

Rai's footsteps echoed as he crossed the stone floor and stopped by the wall where the opponent's weapon had lodged itself. He placed one hand on the long wooden handle and gave it a testing tug. It groaned against the stone, then came free with a sharp jerk. Rai hefted it, testing the weight. "This might come in handy," he murmured to himself.

Without another glance at the broken figure behind him, Rai vanished into the darkness ahead, his silhouette disappearing as he pressed forward to whatever challenge lay next.