The Game of his Destiny

Chapter 21 : Sunset of the Unconquered

​Once again, our paths crossed. Lazarus—the monster who sought to end my life and tear Lavender away from me.

​The air around us felt heavy, charged with the scent of trampled grass and metallic dust. I was consumed with rage seeing him trample her under his boot, but I knew I couldn't simply charge in. His weapons were formidable, and my internal energy was too depleted to fuel the Time Sword's abilities for long. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic rhythm that matched the tension in my muscles.

​He refused to release her, his voice dripping with twisted possessiveness. "Hahaha! My apologies, but I cannot let this one go. She is my property, and only death will separate her from me."

​I demanded to know why he was so obsessed with her. Was it her Celestial Item?

​Lazarus looked genuinely puzzled, as if he had no idea what a Celestial Item even was. He claimed Lavender was merely the child of his former servants—tools he had sold to Prince Ferdy of the Zeron Kingdom. He admitted that if Lavender escaped his "care," her mother might rebel, which would be bad for his human trafficking business.

​The revelation staggered me, but it also raised a question: How did someone like him defeat Lavender so easily? I looked closely at his blades and noticed a strange, violet liquid coating the steel.

​"You're using poison?" I hissed.

​He laughed, denying it was lethal. "Just a paralytic. Most of my merchandise needs to be caught alive. It wouldn't do to kill the profit, would it?"

​A wave of relief washed over me. She was alive. There was still a chance to save her. I didn't just need to beat this man; I needed to end him so she could finally be free forever.

​Lazarus was a Kiron—a being with naturally high magic that empowered his Spirit Item. I had slashed his throat once before, yet he survived. If I aimed for his neck again, he might just regenerate and counter-attack. I needed to strike from a distance to stay clear of those mechanical blade-tentacles, but how?

​Suddenly, Ora leaped from the crystal on the ring and landed beside me. "Aren, run! You can't win this. Leave her and save yourself!"

​I glared at her, incensed. "Leave her? You want us to just abandon Lavender to this monster?"

​Ora insisted that I lacked the power to pierce his defense. She had seen Lavender's strongest attacks fail against those blades; my sword skills alone wouldn't be enough. She reminded me that I was running on fumes and warned that I was about to die for nothing.

​"No! I won't leave her!" I shouted. "I'm bringing her back, no matter what!"

​I ignored Ora's protests and lunged forward. She vanished back into the crystal, grumbling about my stubbornness.

​I threw the Time Sword, but Lazarus’s blades moved like living things, swatting it away effortlessly. I used Rewind to call the sword back to my hand and charged again. Lazarus manipulated his long blades like a dozen lashing whips, their movement a blurred, chaotic hum in the air.

​"Aren! Listen to me! Run while you still can!" Ora screamed from the ring.

​I parried and ducked, trying to find a gap in his guard. I had enough energy for one Time Freeze, but I needed to find a weak point first. The blades became more aggressive, scoring shallow cuts across my arms and chest despite my best efforts to deflect them. Stinging heat bloomed where the steel grazed me, and I was being driven back, and frustration mounted as the distance between me and Lazarus grew.

​"It’s pathetic," Lazarus mocked, his grin widening. "A human like you thinks he can win by waving a little toothpick? You'll die in agony."

​I hated that smile. I hated seeing Lavender motionless on the damp ground. I felt a surge of self-loathing at my own helplessness.

​"You have no chance!" Ora yelled again. "Your life is more important!"

​I tuned her out. I didn't care about the odds. I only cared about the girl under his boot. "I won't let you have her!!"

​I triggered Time Freeze. The world turned gray and still. The rustling wind died, and the flying debris hung suspended in the air. I sprinted behind Lazarus, raising my sword to drive it through his spine. I reached the apex of my swing, but just before the blade connected, a violent blast of compressed air slammed into me.

​The force was so immense it sent me tumbling across the grass. Time resumed instantly, my attack failed. I gasped, trying to scramble up, but a sudden, numbing cold washed over me.

​I looked down. My right arm—the one holding the Time Sword—was gone. It had been severed at the elbow by a blade of invisible wind. The sudden absence of limb and the fountain of blood sprayed across the dirt left me dizzy.

​Without the sword in my hand, I couldn't use Time Heal or Rewind. I had to be in physical contact with the item to command it.

​"How...?" I stammered. "How did they attack me inside the frozen time?"

​I scanned the perimeter and saw her: the female assassin with the iron fan, standing far outside my usual range. She hadn't been caught in the freeze, and she had waited for the perfect moment to strike with her invisible wind magic.

​I was hyperventilating, the pain finally beginning to register as a sharp, throbbing roar. My sword lay five meters away, reflecting the grey light. If I could just reach it, I could fix this.

​But Lazarus knew. He didn't give me the chance. His blades extended, piercing my legs and torso in a rapid-fire blur.

​"Ahhh!!"

​He kicked me away, further from the sword. "So, that blade is the source of your 'miracles'?"

​Lazarus walked over and picked up the Time Sword. He examined it with a merchant's eye, swinging it experimentally. He explained that many of his "products" had Spirit Items, which he sold for high prices after their owners died and the items looked for new masters.

​He walked toward me, the Time Sword in his hand. I tried to sit up, but my vision was blurring at the edges. The blood loss was making me lightheaded, and my heart was thumping erratically against my ribs, an uneven, dying drumbeat.

​Lazarus stopped in front of me, looking down with mock pity. He admitted he was impressed I had killed one of his best men, but he was a businessman first.

​"You have minutes to live," he said. "But I'm feeling generous. I'll give you a choice."

​A magic circle appeared, and from it emerged a heavy iron collar—the same kind used on slaves. The same kind Lavender once wore.

​"Put this on," he commanded. "Do it, and I'll give you back the sword so you can heal yourself. You'll be my slave, a new 'asset' for my business."

​The collar was enchanted; once locked, I would be unable to disobey a single order from my master.

​I looked at Lavender one last time. A wave of shame washed over me. Without the sword, I was just a weak, pathetic human. I couldn't save anyone. I couldn't even save myself.

​Lazarus kicked the collar toward me and leveled the Time Sword at my throat. "Put it on if you want to live. You can even stay with the girl... as my property."

​I looked up at the sky. It was turning a beautiful, bruised orange—the color of twilight. I felt my life flickering out like a dying candle, the world growing dimmer with every shallow breath.

​"What are you waiting for? Put it on!" Lazarus barked.

​"You want me to be your puppet?" I whispered, my voice raspy. "If I do... I can't kill you or hurt you anymore, right? I'll just be a golden goose for you."

​He pressed the tip of the blade into my neck, drawing a bead of blood. "It's better than being a corpse. I'll give you food, shelter, a purpose. Things the dead don't have. Now, choose!"

​I looked him in the eye and smiled. My arm fell limp by my side. I knew this was the end.

​"I have a better idea," I said. "I'd rather rot than serve a piece of filth like you. I hate everything you are, and if I had the chance, I’d kill you a hundred times over."

​Lazarus’s face contorted with rage. He raised the Time Sword high. "You'd choose death over me? Fine. Have it your way, you fool!"

​With the last of my strength, I lifted my remaining hand. My fingers trembled as I gave him a dirty finger gesture.

​"F*ck you," I whispered, still smiling.

​Lazarus swung. The blade hissed through the air and tore through my throat. My vision spun as my head rolled away from my body. For the second time, I had failed. I was dead.