Real Fight

Robert breathed a sigh of relief as he surveyed the aftermath of the battle.

His group had emerged victorious against the Black Hand, but not without losses.

Several of his fellow group members lay dead or wounded on the ground, and the toll of the fight was etched on the faces of those who remained.

Robert's thoughts were interrupted by a voice behind him.

"Well done, Blackwell. You've proved your mettle today."

Robert turned around to see a tall, slender man with a neatly trimmed beard and piercing blue eyes.

He was wearing a tailored frock coat, dress shirt, and trousers, along with polished leather shoes, an odd contrast to the chaos of the chamber.

"Who are you?" Robert asked, his gaze narrowed suspiciously.

The man smiled.

"My name is Alexander Kline. I'm the leader of this expedition. I've been watching you Robert, and I must say, impressive work. But now it's time for you to step aside."

Robert's suspicions deepened.

"What do you mean, step aside? This was our mission, not yours."

Kline's smile faded.

"Our mission was to eliminate the Black Hand. And to retrieve an artifact from this chamber."

Robert's eyes widened. "What is the artifact?"

Kline did not reply, instead turning his attention to the masked man lying on the ground.

"Bring me the artifact," he ordered one of his men.

Robert watched as the man retrieved a small, ornate box from the masked man's body and handed it to Kline.

"What is that?" Robert asked, his curiosity piqued.

Kline opened the box, revealing a small, glowing crystal.

"This is the artifact we came for. With it, we can change the course of history."

Robert's suspicions turned to horror. "What do you mean, change the course of history? What are you planning to do with that thing?"

Kline smiled again, but there was a coldness to it that made Robert's blood run cold.

"That, Blackwell, is none of your concern. Now, I suggest you to step aside and give me some room, there is still one last thing I must do before we can leave this place."

Robert's group hesitated, unsure of what to do. They had completed their mission, but something about Kline's behavior made them uneasy.

Before they could make a decision, the masked man started getting up.

As the masked man got up, Robert could feel a change in the air.

It was as if the man had become an entirely different person than he was before.

The atmosphere around them grew tense, and the hairs on the back of Robert's neck stood up.

Without hesitation, Kline charged at the masked man, swinging his sword with all his might.

But the masked man was too quick, dodging Kline's attacks with ease.

He moved with a grace that was almost inhuman, his movements fluid and effortless.

Robert watched in awe as the two men fought, each one pushing the other to their limits.

The masked man seemed to be the more skilled fighter, but Kline was not one to back down.

He fought with a ferocity that was unmatched, his determination unwavering.

As the battle raged on, the masked man's movements became more erratic.

It was as if he was losing control of himself, his movements becoming more frenzied and unpredictable.

Kline saw his chance and lunged forward, his sword aimed at the masked man's head.

But at the last second, the masked man dodged to the side, causing Kline's sword to miss its mark.

With lightning-fast reflexes, the masked man retaliated, striking Kline with a blow that made him stumble back for a moment.

Kline quickly recovered and shifted his stance, seemingly adapting to he masked man's style.

He started fighting more efficiently and with more precision, striking back with powerful blows that overwhelmed the masked man.

The masked man seemed to be taken aback by Kline's sudden change in fighting style.

Robert watched with bated breath as Kline and the masked man clashed in a flurry of sword, hammer and kicks.

The sound of clanging metal echoed throughout the chamber, accompanied by grunts and shouts from both combatants.

It was a sight to behold, a dance of death between two skilled warriors, each one determined to emerge victorious.

The masked man moved with incredible speed and agility, dodging Kline's attacks with ease. He seemed almost to be toying with Kline, taunting him with each dodge and parry.

Robert could see the frustration etched on Kline's face, but he refused to back down. He continued to press the attack, his sword flashing in the dim light of the chamber.

Despite his initial advantage, the masked man began to tire.

His movements became slower, less precise, and more predictable. Kline saw this and seized the opportunity.

With a fierce battle cry, he charged forward, his sword aimed at the masked man's chest.

The masked man tried to parry, but Kline was too quick.

His sword struck home, and the masked man stumbled backward, clutching at his chest.

For a moment, the chamber was silent, and everyone held their breath.

Then the masked man staggered forward, and the fight resumed.

Now it was Kline who had the advantage. He pressed the attack relentlessly, striking the masked man with blow after blow.

Robert watched in amazement as Kline fought with incredible skill and agility.

It was as if he was a completely different person from the one who had been struggling earlier.

Robert realized that Kline had been holding back before, waiting for the right moment to strike.

The masked man, realizing that he was outmatched, started to retreat. But Kline wasn't going to let him get away. He pursued the masked man relentlessly, striking him with quick jabs and powerful kicks.

Finally, the masked man stumbled and fell to the ground, defeated.

Kline towered over him, his sword raised in the air, glinting in the light.

The masked man gazed up at him, his eyes wide with terror, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead.

In a desperate plea, he gasped,

"I implore you, spare me."

Kline hesitated for a moment, his face twisted in anger and disgust.

With a sudden and calculated movement, Kline lowered his sword and in one swift stroke, severed the head of the masked man.

The blade sliced through the air with precision, leaving no room for doubt that this was a deliberate and decisive action.

The sound of metal meeting flesh echoed through the chamber, as the headless body slumped to the ground with a thud.

The head started rolling, leaving a trail of blood in its wake.

Robert let out a long exhale, feeling a wave of relief wash over him as he surveyed the aftermath of the battle.

The fight had been intense, and victory had not come easily. Yet, despite the odds against them, they had emerged triumphant.

He looked around at the aftermath of the fight, the dead and wounded littering the ground. It was a grim reminder of the price they had paid for their victory.

A sense of unease washed over Robert, a feeling that lingered as he observed Kline's actions.

He stood there, silently watching as Kline picked up the masked man's head, examining it with a focused intensity.

There was something unsettling about the way Kline seemed almost fascinated by the severed head, as if there was some hidden meaning behind it that only he could decipher.

Robert couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he knew that something was off.

"That's strange," Kline muttered to himself. "I expected to see a face under this mask, but there's nothing here."

Robert stared at the head in horror, realizing that there was no face under the mask.

"What kind of monster is this?" Robert whispered.

Kline turned to Robert, a glint in his eye.

"I'm not sure why he has no face," he said slowly. "But It doesn't really matter"

With that, Kline motioned for the rest of the group to regroup.

As Robert approached Kline, he noticed the leader's eyes were fixed on him.

"I want to thank you, Blackwell," Kline said, his voice low.

"You fought bravely today, and I couldn't have asked for a better ally."

Robert nodded, unsure of what to say. He had never been one for compliments, and Kline's words had caught him off guard.

"What about the artifact?" Robert asked, remembering the small, glowing crystal that Kline had retrieved from the masked man's body.

Kline smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "The artifact is safe. It will be transported to headquarters for study and analysis."

Robert frowned. "What do you plan to do with it?"

"Blackwell, there's no need to worry. The artifact designated as #0098, also known as Blood of the Ancient, will most likely only be used for study purposes and not for any other use. Our organization values order and is not driven by power like the Black Hand."

With a somber nod, Robert acknowledged Kline's words and simply replied,

"I understand."