Denver charged with reckless abandon, his broadsword cleaving through the air with deadly precision. His footsteps thundered against the cobblestones, each one reverberating with unrelenting fury.
His entire being was consumed by grief, anger, and guilt—emotions he could no longer suppress.
"You'll pay for what you've done!" he roared, his voice cracking under the weight of his rage.
Each swing of his sword carried the force of a man who had lost his sanity in a single moment, as while Vivienne had managed to save his life just a moment ago, he had failed to save hers in return.
The master mage, a long time friend of his, died right before his eyes, and the loss of her life felt too much for Denver to bear.
*SHUA*
Leo barely managed to sidestep the first strike, his breathing labored and his movements sluggish.
After fighting against two master warriors for so long, he could no longer move like he was at his peak and it reflected in his performance.
To make matters worse, his injured leg felt more like a dead weight than a functioning limb, and every attempt to dodge Denver's relentless blows slowly became increasingly futile.
'This is bad,' he thought grimly as Denver's next strike grazed his side, tearing through his armor and sending a sharp jolt of pain up his ribs.
-27,500
His mind raced to find an opening, but Denver's attacks were relentless, and the swordsman's raw power left no room for error.
Another strike came down, and this time, Denver's broadsword slashed clean across Leo's mask, ripping it apart in one brutal motion.
The Virex Corps mask, the symbol of his invincibility shattered from the blow, fragments scattering to the ground as a thin line of blood appeared on Leo's exposed cheek, dripping down his jaw and neck.
Leo staggered back, his face now half visible— as instead of looking pristine and untouchable, he looked bloodied, battered, and smeared with dirt.
His chest heaved with every breath, and for a moment, the courtyard seemed to fall silent, at the reveal of half his face, save for the sound of Leo's own laboured breathing.
"You've lost," Denver growled, his voice low and venomous. "You have nothing left to hide behind. No mask, no tricks. You're finished."
But instead of despair, a twisted grin spread across Leo's face. Blood stained his teeth, and his eyes gleamed with an almost feral light.
Even now, even when he knew he had no tricks left to pull, and no sensation in one of his legs, he still smiled like he had the upper hand, as the 'Act' he had put on for years now, seemed to finally become a true part of him.
After 'Faking it' for all these years, the invincibility act was no longer just a performance for Leo, but rather a way of life.
The belief that he could still find a way out of this mess, even though he did not know how, was absolute in his heart, and hence, even on the back foot he smiled, as he taunted his opponent to dare continue, if he had the balls.
"Lost?" Leo repeated, his voice rasping but filled with defiance. "You think slashing my face means you've won? Hate to break it to you, Mr Fake Emperor, but this is just getting fun. The mage is dead, and you're next. Believe it—"
Denver's expression darkened as Leo straightened, wiping the blood from his cheek with the back of his hand. Despite the injuries, despite the overwhelming odds, Leo stood tall—broken, but unbowed.
"Is that it?" Leo taunted, his grin widening. "I've fought drunks with better swings. Come on, show me what you've got."
Denver's grip tightened on his broadsword, his knuckles whitening as rage boiled over once more. "You're mocking me?" he snarled. "After all this?"
Leo shrugged, the motion strained but casual. "You've got one chance left to kill me—don't miss it."
With a guttural roar, Denver lunged forward, his blade flashing in the moonlight as he brought it down in a devastating overhead swing. Leo twisted to the side, narrowly avoiding the strike, but his injured leg buckled, and he stumbled, barely regaining his footing.
Denver pressed the attack, his swings faster and more brutal than before. Each one forced Leo to retreat further, his back now nearly against the courtyard wall.
But through the storm of blows, Leo's sharp eyes never left Denver. He was studying, analyzing—waiting.
Denver, blinded by his anger, failed to notice the cracks forming in his own defense. His strikes, though powerful, were becoming overcommitted, leaving brief but exploitable openings, as somehow he failed to see through Leo's bluff.
Having seen Vivienne die before his very eyes, Denver was no longer sure if he really had the upper hand in this fight? Or did Leo have an ace up his sleeve that could actually kill him?
That doubt made him act with impatience…. He wanted to end the fight before Leo could pull off his tricks and hence he over-extended and over-committed.
Looking at his confident smile, Denver felt uneasy in his heart, unsure of what was about to happen next and hence he made mistakes that he would have otherwise never made.
********
(Meanwhile Leo)
Faced with Denver's relentless barrage, only one question kept appearing in Leo's mind on a loop, which was 'How?'.
'How do I surmount these odds?'
'How do I create an opening?'
He wondered constantly, as his eyes darted between himself, Dumpy and Ben, as he explored all possible options, and all possible outcomes.
Unfortunately, just like before, Dumpy and Ben could still not help him in his battle, leaving him alone to figure out this problem.
However, to his joy, he could notice some weaknesses in Denver's fighting style now, which were not evident before.
*Block*
*Block*
*Dodge*
-16000.
As a small slash against his ankle made him buckle, Leo could notice how he could have injured Denver critically if he were faster, however, only because he was so slow now, did Denver actually dominate.
Instead of fighting sensibly, Denver was deliberately targeting his weak leg and forcing him back, as at that moment, Leo finally understood how to achieve victory.