Chapter 61: Camp Assault [Part 4]
Joval grinned at the boy and lunged forward, making a downward slash with his battleaxe. The boy dodged to the right, making the attack miss and send up a plume of dirt. He was not going to end there however, instead he used the fact that his weapon was stuck in the earth to yank himself forward into a kick at his opponent's chest.
The boy parried the kick with his free hand and attempted to grapple around Joval's leg and trap him, but he overpowered the grip and yanked himself free from the boy and his axe free from the ground.
"You are pretty good, boy. Too bad I don't think you are going to win this one." He taunted, before making three swings in rapid succession.
The first came was aimed at the boy's sword arm on his enemy's right, however the boy simply used his machete to parry the attack over his head. Joval allowed the momentum to flow into a spin attack that struck from the same side, but stronger.
The speed of this follow up was too quick for the boy to parry, so he had to go for a straight block, sending a shower of sparks into the air and the boy skidding a foot in the direction of the strike's force.
Joval's final attack was another overhead strike which the boy was also able to block, though required his off hand to support the blade from the back.
"Come on, boy. Give me more entertainment than that! Fight back why don't you?!" Joval laughed.
"You talk too much." This boy's words were colder than ice and once again he felt a strange chill in the air, but that only served to excite Joval more. He desired the threat of death in a fight. He was not so stupid as to fight someone that would win instantly against him. No, Joval craved the struggle between two people fighting for their right to survive.
Still pressing down on the boy, Joval heard his opponent shout out, "[Forsaken Arts: Sand Veil]!"
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"Wha…" Joval's words were cut short before his mouth and eyes were filled with dirt. A moment before he was blinded, he saw the glow of mana form at the boy's feet.
Even though he could no longer see, he maintained his pressure on the boy. If he backed off to clear his eyes, then it would leave him open for a slash from his enemy's machete and that would not end well. Also, Joval was familiar with the Forsaken Arts a little bit as he has fought beside and against a user before.
Sand Veil was a cheap skill that sent mana into dirt or sand the user scattered into the air and forcibly made a storm of dirt that clung to the eyes and mouths of the enemy for a few seconds.
"Oh ho, ho? A noble adventurer resorting to dastardly tricks. I like it…" He laughed while sputtering dirt.
Suddenly he felt the air be forcibly expelled from his lungs as a foot planted itself in his gut. Joval released one hand from his weapon and grabbed the foot that kicked him and threw it to the side. All the resistance against his axe vanished as the boy was thrown a few feet to the side. Joval quickly cleared his eyes and watched the boy roll to a stop in the dirt.
"Alrighty, boy. Playtime is over now!" Joval roared. He reached into a satchel he kept on his waist and pulled out a potion bottle filled with a mysterious liquid. He flicked the stopper off with his thumb and chugged its disgusting contents before tossing the empty container aside. It had the texture of snot and tasted like a horse's ass smelled.
Joval felt the veins throughout his body press against his skin. Every muscle screamed at him in pain. Yet, he felt stronger than he had ever felt in his life. His once heavy battleaxe suddenly felt as light as a feather and he was even able to swing it with one hand. He took a few practice swings and smiled widely.
"Oh that was worth the money…Let's play for real now, boy." He laughed.
Joval jumped into the air, the ground cracked from the force. He brought both hands to his weapon, swung the axe behind his back so far that his back arched. As he fell down upon the boy, he swung the axe forward with all his strength.
Along with his improved strength, he also felt fast and vision seemed to have improved. Joval watched, almost in slow motion, the boy's muscles contract in his leg and jump out of the way. Joval's axe planted into the ground only inches from the boy's body. However, faster than what he thought possible, his hand lashed out and grabbed his enemy by the chest of his shirt.
He pulled the boy close to his face and laughed. "Got you."
"[Forsaken Arts…]!"
"Nope!" Joval interrupted the Arts activation by punching his newfound captive straight in the face. The hit stunned the boy and blood gushed from his nose. Joval punched again and again. Slowly, but surely, the boy's face changed shape as he pummeled him till his cheekbones, nose, and jaw were shattered.
"Looks like I win, boy." He laughed. "I thought I told you to make this fun for me."
A woman's voice shouted out from behind him, "Let Lucius go you rotten bastard! [Sword Arts: Grand Slash]!"
The woman that had been fighting using the big sword against his men had disengaged by activating an Art that used a large slashing attack. Several of his men fell instantly to the attack as she created an opening to attack. Finally bored with his toy, he threw the boy's limp form to the side.
"You damn monster! Die!" the woman yelled.
"Yea, you seem fun. I don't know if I can beat you, but with that potion I might have a shot! Come at me!" Joval screamed while grabbing the axe once more and running to meet her charge.
The exchanged blow after blow, neither giving or gaining ground. Metal clanged against metal, both fighters' arms and weapons moving faster than eyes could track.
"Oh this is fun!" Joval laughed. He knew he was going to lose now. Slowly, but surely and inch by inch, the woman was going to be gaining ground. He felt his body begin to slowly weaken as the potion's effects wear out.
Joval was about to make another strike at the woman, but felt a familiar chill take over his being. Before he could finish his attack or turn around to see the source of the feeling, he felt a sharp pain in his back, then his front. He felt the sudden urge to cough as he felt unable to release or take in any breaths. Slowly, he looked downward at his body that refused to listen to his commands.
Jutting out from his chest was a jagged blade.
'Heh, should have checked if the boy was still breathing,' were the last thoughts before he fell to the ground and felt his world turn dark.