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墨書 Inktalez
The gazes of the two men flashed simultaneously, and in almost the same instant, blades gleamed as they sliced through the air. **"Bang!"** The clash of their swords sparked like exploding stars, a blinding light illuminating the dim room, accompanied by the crisp sound of metal colliding that echoed in the air.
The Commander's face suddenly emerged from the shadows, his eyes sharp and focused like a predator, muscles taut from exertion. He gritted his teeth, gripping the hilt of his sword firmly, seemingly channeling all his strength into the weapon. His gaze was locked onto Yan Kong, filled with murderous intent and deep disdain.
Yan Kong did not back down; his muscles tightened around the hilt like steel. He felt the pressure from the opposing blade but maintained a cold and confident demeanor. With a slight twist of his wrist, he pushed against the trajectory of the Commander’s attack, causing the Commander to sway slightly. Seizing this brief opening, Yan Kong swiftly executed a rapid and fierce horizontal slash.
The blade moved as fast as lightning, aimed directly at the Commander’s neck. This strike carried an overwhelming force that made the air tremble.
However, the Commander reacted just as swiftly. His gaze darkened, body leaning back slightly as he flicked his wrist sharply, raising his blade to block Yan Kong's deadly strike.
**"Ding!"** The blades clashed again with a resounding metallic ring, sparks flying as if igniting the murderous intent in the room even further.
Their blades intertwined, the collision of power and speed made the surrounding air feel oppressive. Their figures were pressed closely together, each breath audible amidst the flickering lights of their swords and the urgent sounds of their clashes.
A cold smile appeared at the corner of the Commander's mouth. "Not bad, you have strength, but it’s still not fast enough!" His voice was low yet laced with provocation as he shifted his stance slightly, preparing for the next round of attacks.
Yan Kong remained silent, his expression steely. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead; his grip on the sword wavered slightly as if searching for the best angle to exploit an opening. He took a deep breath, focusing all his attention on the impending life-and-death confrontation.
A ruthless glint flashed in the Commander's eyes as he tightened his grip on the hilt. With a sudden shift of his footwork, he accelerated his movements, launching a furious barrage towards Yan Kong like a tempest. Each strike was swift and imbued with lethal intent—angles sharp and forceful—compressing the space around them.
**"Yan Kong, you are nothing but a tool being used by others!"** He taunted while attacking relentlessly, his words piercing Yan Kong's heart with mockery and derision. **"Look at you now! Clad in armor and wielding a sword—do you really think you’re some kind of hero? Everything you do is merely paving the way for someone else!"**
Yan Kong remained silent; his brow furrowed slightly but without response. Only his sword met each attack steadily. His movements were calm and composed as he deflected every blow from the Commander, seemingly deaf to his taunts.
The Commander noticed his silence and intensified his attacks, the blade flashing like a net, pressing down on Yan Kong to the point where he could barely breathe. "Your past, your future, all controlled by others! You know deep down this is not what you want, yet you dare not admit it! Why? Because you cannot change! You are nothing but a powerless puppet!"
Each word pierced Yan Kong's heart like a sharp thorn. Though he appeared calm on the surface, turmoil began to brew within him. The doubts and insecurities buried deep inside seemed to surface, stirred by the Commander's taunts.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The sound of blades clashing echoed throughout the cramped room, sparks flying. The Commander's movements grew increasingly rapid; each swing of his knife was executed with deadly precision. His assault was like an unstoppable tide, wave after wave trapping Yan Kong in an invisible web of blades.
Yan Kong's breathing became labored, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Every movement he made was calculated, deflecting the Commander's attacks without wasting an ounce of energy. Despite the heavy pressure, his gaze remained resolute, the knife in his hand steady as a rock.
The Commander's mocking voice continued unabated: "Do you think your silence can hide anything? Face it, Yan Kong! Admit your cowardice!"
In response to the Commander's derision, Yan Kong curled his lips into a cold smile, disdain flashing in his eyes. He had long since become immune to such words; each taunt from the Commander sounded like mere air to him. His focus was entirely on the knife in his hand and the movements of his opponent, waiting for the perfect moment.
Suddenly, Yan Kong's hands exerted tremendous force, crashing his blade against the Commander's knife. A loud bang erupted as their blades met with a force akin to thunder, sending shockwaves through his wrist and causing pain to shoot through the Commander's hand. A flicker of surprise crossed the Commander's face as he loosened his grip slightly, exposing a gap in his defense.
In that instant, a glint of cold light flashed in Yan Kong's eyes as he lunged forward like a fierce tiger. His knife transformed into a deadly silver streak, darting toward the Commander's chest with lightning speed. The tip pierced through the Commander's defenses, slicing into his armor before swiftly retracting and drawing forth a stream of blood.
The Commander gritted his teeth, trying to steady himself, but Yan Kong did not give him a moment's respite. With a swift twist of his blade, Yan Kong executed an incredible diagonal slash aimed at the Commander’s left armpit. The blade sliced through armor and flesh with a sickening sound, blood gushing forth like a fountain and splattering across the floor and walls.
The Commander let out a muffled grunt as his body swayed violently; his left arm hung limply at his side, clearly rendered useless.
Yet Yan Kong did not relent. He spun around abruptly, swinging his blade once more—this time targeting the Commander's right arm. His movements were decisive and fierce; the first strike landed on the Commander's wrist holding the knife, blood spraying everywhere. Without hesitation, he followed up with a second strike that mercilessly severed the Commander's right hand completely.
"Ah!" The commander let out a painful roar as his right hand, still gripping the knife, fell to the ground along with the hilt, crashing into a pool of blood. His body swayed slightly, staggering back a few steps, while his left hand pressed against the wound that bled profusely, his face contorted with pain and anger.
Yan Kong looked down at the blood-soaked, gasping commander, his eyes filled with indifference and disdain. He slightly curled his lips, his voice as cold as steel: "Your strength is probably not even half of what your mouth boasts." His tone dripped with sarcasm, piercing through the commander's ears like a chilling wind.
The commander gritted his teeth against the excruciating pain, yet a cold smile still crept onto his face. He slowly raised his head; despite the humiliation and agony in his eyes, there was also a hint of defiance. He opened his mouth as if to say something more, the corners of his lips even lifting slightly, as if preparing to mock the figure standing before him once again.
However, before he could utter a sound, the flash of a blade sliced through the air.
Yan Kong's movements were astonishingly swift; the blade cut through with a sharp whoosh, aimed directly at the top of the commander's head. The strike was decisive and unhesitating, leaving no room for mercy.
"Thud!" The blade embedded itself into the commander's skull, blood splattering everywhere as the sound of brain matter and shattered bone echoed throughout the room. The cold smile on the commander's face froze in place, all emotions in his eyes vanished in an instant. He collapsed backward weakly, a pool of blood rapidly spreading beneath him.
Yan Kong gazed at the fallen corpse, retracting his knife and flicking away the blood from its blade with calm precision. His face showed no sign of emotion; only his cold eyes swept over the now still body of the commander as if inspecting whether his task was complete.
"The nonsense has finally come to an end," Yan Kong murmured softly before turning to walk toward the door of the room without looking back. The room was left behind with nothing but a floor soaked in blood and the commander’s lifeless gaze.
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