The First Fight Ends

The troll broke the silence. "No can. Me want go home, and me have win to go."

"I can respect that." Itsuki aimed gripped his blades tightly, his gold armored fingers scraping against the leather handles. "Then come on. Let's get this over with."

Lok'Dar nodded with a solemn grace unbefitting of a troll hailing from the Wilds. It was a nod that accepted death, and yet had the bearing to still fight it regardless.

Red started to envelop Lok'dar, forming into a faint, bloodshade mist that erupted from his skin like steam. His eyes clouded over, the blood vessels within engorging and making them bloodshot.

Battle Rage. A bread and butter skill for Berserkers, and the first class skill they learned. Itsuki glanced at the wounds he'd given the troll, at the strips of red across the monster's bulky body that were already healing.

Itsuki remembered all the details about Battle Rage. It required the user to be damaged, but what he was curious about was how the lore part of it would work. The flavor text of the ability stated it rendered its user into an uncontrollable rage, but then how would the troll have the mental ability to consciously think of using warrior skills?

The troll breathed heavily, a low growl coming from deep within. Itsuki stared the beast down, faceted eyes two steady beads of emerald.

Lok'Dar Spirit: 30 + 50 (Battle Rage[50]) = 80

Itsuki exhaled, tensing his body. Battle Rage meant the troll would hit extremely hard now. He couldn't afford a single misstep here.

The troll raised his machete overhead and stiffened for a half-second. Itsuki caught that motion and stepped to the side. He heard the troll skid behind him, having failed yet another [Charge] skill. But the troll rebounded, bellowing out a savage roar as he leaped into the air, both hands overhead as he aimed down at Itsuki's head with a [Slash].

Itsuki used [Dash] backwards, and the great machete slammed into the earth, splitting it and sending pellets of debris scattering outwards. The crowd started a low boo, not wanting Itsuki to retreat like this. He ignored them. The crowd were a bunch of idiots if they thought he could match those attacks. He couldn't parry skill boosted attacks unless his equipment was of a higher grade than his enemy's, but the reverse was true here.

The massive machete, though rusted and chipped, was an Uncommon weapon made for heavy strength users. With his common weapons, Itsuki would get flattened if he challenged those skill-boosted blows.

The troll surged forwards before even the debris he ploughed up could settle, this time bearing down on Itsuki with a wild swing with the flat of his blade. A [Bash] – and Itsuki dodged yet again with [Dash], making more distance.

The troll kept forwards, spittle frothing at his mouth, eyes red and crazed. Another [Slash], and Itsuki used another [Dash]. This time, the troll did not keep up his offense. Itsuki found himself staring down the troll who panted with exhaustion instead of rage now.

But the troll didn't give up. He mustered more wrath, channeling his Berserker subclass's passive to generate an extra burst of Spirit.

Lok'Dar Spirit: 80 – 60(Charge[30]+Slash x2[20]+Bash[10]) + 30(Berserk) = 50

Itsuki Spirit: 70 – 30(Dash x3[30]) = 50

The crowd's booing had grown louder now, dominating over the cheers. Itsuki smirked. He'd give them a show soon.

The troll sucked in a breath and held his machete with both hands, taking up a basic stance with the blade centered where his abdomen was. Mid-Stance – meaning the troll wanted to try and get as many Battle Rage boosted basic attacks as possible. By holding the weapon with two hands, the troll also improved the speed of his swings and their damage on top of the heavy stat boosts he already got from Battle Rage.

"Come on!" Itsuki shouted, his twin blades pointing down by his waist in Low-Stance.

The troll made a final dash, and when he stood in front of Itsuki, his massive body casting a shadow over the insectoid, troll unleashed a flurry of maddened blows. The hulking mass of steel flashed under the sun as they swung up and down, side to side.

Itsuki parried. The troll was so fast that his movements were blurs, but Itsuki had the timing of Mid-Stance attacks down to an absolute art. He accounted for the speed boost two-handing the weapon and Battle Rage gave the troll, putting it all into his trained calculations.

He didn't parry with just his dagger, he parried with both weapons, his golden arms flashing as they deflected the machete again and again, deafening clangs and showers of sparks filling the space between them each time.

The crowd roared as they saw what they paid for: an up-close and personal battle among warriors.

Five hits and parries later, and the troll fell to his knees in front of Itsuki, arms limp with exhaustion. He had reached 0 Spirit, preventing him from attacking or defending.

Itsuki took this chance. He had been in low-stance for a reason. It let him parry with both hands and with faster speed to match the troll's enhanced stats. At the same time, it had the highest DPS as it allowed one to attack with two weapons simultaneously at the cost of expending Spirit at horrendously fast rates.

However, he didn't need to worry about Spirit here. He had enough, and the troll had none. There was no contest remaining – just an execution.

Itsuki swung his longsword across the troll's face, slicing through his nose. The troll shrieked and flinched backwards, blood spurting from his split nose. With his dagger, Itsuki nicked the troll's throat, but couldn't puncture deep enough for the wound to be a Critical Hit.

Then he paused. Just for a second. A precious second in between the adrenaline and battle-lust that raged in his body and mind. He looked at the troll, at his status as a slave and remembered his wish to go home.

Itsuki started aiming for the troll's chest. A deadly storm of strikes as longsword and dagger cut deep into the troll, drenching his green body in red. He kept the strikes going until he felt his blades cut in without resistance – the troll had stopped clenching his muscles to try and fend against the biting steel.

Itsuki stood still, eyeing the troll. The beast looked at the sky while on his knees, a river of blood pouring from his chest, his one functional eye clouded over in unconsciousness. Like a tower with broken foundations, the troll slowly collapsed back, his body making a squelching impact with the bloody puddle he'd spurted out on the ground.

With a nod, Itsuki raised both his arms into the air, swords glinting in victory.

The crowd cheered, whistles and roars interspersing the shouts. Itsuki didn't feel tired. A racial trait of Insectoids, but he knew that he was close to shutting down, he'd started feeling the chill in his limbs, the same chill that had knocked him out cold the night before.

Itsuki Spirit: 50-45(Low-Stance Basic Attack x9)

But the chills didn't stop him from feeling the warmth of victory as he bathed in the cheers.