unexpected fight part 2

I sheathed my sword, my voice steady but commanding. "Stay on the ground. No one else has to die." The carriage was unguarded now. "Crimzo, cover me," I ordered.

He nodded, and his team drew their bows to keep the remaining guards under control. I walked to the carriage door, kicking it hard enough to swing it open.

What greeted me wasn't what I expected. A person lashed out with a kick so powerful I barely managed to block it, the impact sending a shock up my arms. That wasn't an ordinary strike, it carried enough force to break metal.

The man sat calmly beside the princess, his presence radiating strength. He wasn't like the others. His aura was oppressive, calculated. His eyes, dark and sharp, felt like blades pressed to the skin, searching for weakness. He didn't need to speak for everyone around to feel the weight of his power.

Andrew swore under his breath, and even Sophia shifted uneasily. Crimzo, normally unshaken. All of them muttered, "Who the hell is that?"

Everyone backed away, trying not to interrupt me, realizing that this was my fight now.

The man finally broke the silence, his voice like ice. "What do you think you're doing?" His eyes, sharp and fearless, locked onto mine.

I didn't flinch. "I'm here to take the princess. That's all. Now step aside."

He didn't move, his gaze assessing me as if measuring whether I was worth his effort. As he stood, I saw the weapon in his hands -a kusarigama-.

This weapon was a sickle attached to a chain, and it was both versatile and dangerous. It was capable of cutting with quick, precise strikes, while the chain could tangle or strike with deadly force. It required exceptional skill to use it effectively.

I had read about this weapon before, it was an ancient weapon used back to an old era.

It wasn't just brute force; I was dealing with a skilled and well-trained guard.

I raised my sword. My left hand held the light blade, designed for quick, graceful strikes and defence. In my right hand rested the heavier sword, its weight designed to pierce armor and deliver devastating blows.

Together, they formed my style, speed and power in perfect balance. I had mastered this style to throw my opponents off balance, dominating whatever rhythm they tried to set.

But this man… his stance and weapon told me this wouldn't be like any fight I'd faced before.

A Kusarigama was unpredictable. It had range and variety and required precision to counter. This required more than just strength or skill.

The atmosphere grew tense as we faced each other, the others watching silently. His chain began to move. "Do you think you can take it?" he said in a calm yet threatening voice. "Then show me."

I didn't answer. Words were meaningless now. I shifted my weight, adjusted my grip, my focus narrowing on his every move. It wasn't about taking down a guard anymore.

This was a fight against a true fighter, losing my focus now would mean my death

And I wasn't planning on dying here.

He started the fight, spinning the weighted end of his kusarigama in the air while keeping the sickle firmly in his hand. Suddenly, he hurled the iron ball toward me. I dodged it easily, but I wasn't surprised, it wasn't going to be that simple. He wasn't trying to hit me; he was trying to wrap the chain around me.

I noticed his plan in time and quickly slipped under the chain to avoid falling into the trap. Without giving him a moment to retrieve the chain, I charged towards him.

My heavy sword swung toward him with force, but he skilfully blocked the strikes with the sickle.

As I closed in, aiming a strike at his head, the iron ball on the chain came at me from the right. I stopped my attack and quickly deflected it with my lighter sword, only to find his sickle slashing at me immediately after. Suddenly, I found myself on the defensive, parrying blow after blow.

His movements were coordinated and continuous, the sickle and iron ball moving as if they were extensions of his body. Every move was precise, every strike calculated. It was clear that he has mastered his weapon. If I stayed within his range, I wouldn't last long.

I stepped forward, using the momentum of the fight to create an opportunity. When the opportunity arose, I delivered a powerful kick directly to his stomach.

His body was solid, But the effect was enough to perturb him a little.

He backed off for a moment, and I took the chance to breathe. A deep breath, sharp focus, and unshakable courage—those are all it takes to dominate a fight. I rushed him again, this time more determined.

He threw the sickle directly at me. It was too fast for me to dodge, so I blocked it with my lighter sword. But then, as if reading my move, he swung the chain, forcing me to raise my heavy sword to stop him.

The chain wrapped around the blade, and with a strong pull, the sword was ripped from my hand.

I realized that retreat was not an option. Now retreat would mean defeat. It was now or never. With a burst of speed, I leapt towards him, swinging my lighter sword over his shoulder.

He retrieved the sickle in time to block the blow, but in doing so, he lost control of the iron ball, which wrapped itself around my heavier sword that was still lying on the ground.

This was my chance. I landed a series of blows, each one sending him off balance. With a swift step to the right, I slashed his shoulder, drawing blood.

He responded with a powerful kick that I managed to block, but it forced me back. He glared at me, his breathing heavier, and muttered, "Not bad, but…"

I didn't let him finish. I surged forward, cutting him off with an aggressive charge. This time, he hurled both the sickle and the iron ball at me, one from each side. There was no way to block them both. I dropped to the ground, ducking under the attacks, and used the momentum to slide behind him.

As I leaped up, my blade aimed for his back, he barely turned in time to block it with his sickle. But his injured shoulder betrayed him, and his strength was fading already.

I pressed harder, my blows penetrating his defences until I landed a hard blow in his chest. He fell to his knees on the ground, gasping for air. He was bleeding as he looked at me with wide eyes.

"Who exactly… are you?" he muttered.

I did not answer him, but quickly finished him off, my sword cut the last thread of his resistance.

The fight was over.