67 The Swashbuckler
Astaroth raised his hands to tuck in his face-cover more.
“Hey! Slowly! And keep your hands where I can see them!” The soldier yelled at him from behind.
The commotion was garnering unwanted attention for Astaroth, as more soldiers had gathered at the entrance to the alley. He didn’t see them, but he could hear the footsteps.
“I’m not looking for trouble.” Astaroth replied, his hand suspended mid-air.
“Then do as told and turn around!” The soldier replied.
Astaroth heard the sounds of swords leaving sheaths. He knew things would get dicey if he stayed here.
Of course, he didn’t want to kill innocent people, but if they forced him to do it, he wouldn’t hesitate. It had become kill or be killed at this point.
Astaroth slowly raised his hands to his makeshift hood, and instead of lowering it, he pulled it further.
“I’m not an enemy, I swear. Just trying to mind my own business.” Astaroth said, walking further into the alley.
“Stop! I said stop!” The soldier yelled as Astaroth tried to walk away.
“After him!” The soldier said, pulling out his sword.
Astaroth immediately used Spirit Melding to gain the extra stats and ran like hell. How hard could it be to lose a tail in a city, right?
And he was right, in part, that losing it was easy. At least, at the speed he was running away.
His problem lay elsewhere. Even after losing the tail, Astaroth couldn’t rest for very long, before they found him again.
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He couldn’t leave the city through any of the gates, since they were highly guarded, but he couldn’t climb the walls either. That would instantly reveal his location!
Astaroth quickly became caught between a rock and a hard place. During one of his many escapes, he received a system notification that gave him hope, though.
*Ding*
*Only one hour remains before ‘Tournament of Heroes’ begins. Please be ready and in a safe location before teleportation. Any players imprisoned at the moment of teleportation will be automatically disqualified.*
‘I just need to keep running until the teleportation!’ He thought.
Unfortunately for him, that would be easier said than done. The more he got found, the harder it was to escape.
It was only when there were five minutes left he got surrounded. He wasn’t sure whether he would be fine for those five minutes, or if he would end up captured.
A soldier walked out of the encirclement. That soldier was a woman, wearing a set of leather armor with a metal pauldron.
Her armor had flourishes of gold and etchings on the pauldron, making her stand out from the crowd. She was wielding a rapier in one hand and a small buckler in the other.
Astaroth gazed at her, as he darted his eyes around, trying to find a flaw in the encirclement. He couldn’t find one.
Time was still ticking as the woman stopped a few meters away from him, arms still at her side.
“Give up, garcon. You are surrounded.” She said, with a thick accent.
Since Astaroth was from a French province, he recognized the accent and smirked.
“How well designed.” He thought, looking at the woman.
She was in an accouterment that screamed French Swashbuckler, and her heavy French accent sold it even further.
“I am innocent, damoiselle. Please let me go.” Astaroth tried to plead his case.
“Sottise, garcon! You have stolen from the king and escaped from prison. You are far from innocent!” She replied, swishing her rapier before her.
“Those were all lies, set up to capture me! I swear I did none of those crimes!” Astaroth rebuked.
“Well… Except flee from prison.” He added, scratching the back of his head.
“Enough talking and get your face to the ground!” The woman barked.
Astaroth still had over three minutes before his teleportation, and he needed to stall. So he switched tactics.
Since talking things out was no longer an option, he would go for taunting.
“How dishonorable are you lot, ganging up on a single person? And here I thought the army was filled with mighty warriors, not cowards.” Astaroth baited, switching his facial expression to a smirk.
The results were instant. The woman before him sneered in anger, raising her rapier.
“Who are you calling dishonorable, thieving boy? We are not the criminals here, you arrogant petit idiot!” She said, losing her temper.
“Then why don’t you fight me in single combat, woman!” Astaroth replied, throwing down the misogyny card.
The woman instantly flared up.
“Are you mocking me, garcon?!” She yelled, her eyes almost popping out of their sockets.
“Do I even need to, woman? Your men don’t think you can capture me alone, it would seem, as they have been inching closer every second.” He replied, pulling off his most mocking grin.
“Assez! You will pay dearly for mocking me, garcon!” The woman shouted, bringing her buckler up and her rapier parallel to her face.
“Men! You are not to interfere. I will make him regret his words!” She added.
“Do you have the ability?” Astaroth taunted again, lowering his stance, ready to spirit meld and pounce.
“I will pierce your heart for your insolence! En Garde!” She yelled, as her men backed away a few feet.
Astaroth saw them back up and knew she might mean business. He would have to be serious from the start, just to remain unscathed.
Astaroth kept his eyes on the woman, ready to react at the slightest twitch. Sadly for him, he might have underestimated her.
The woman standing before him blinked out of existence, and Astaroth’s instinct flared up, screaming at him to bend down. He didn’t hesitate and did so.
A fraction of a second after he bent down, the woman reappeared in front of him, her rapier in a full extension where his heart had been.
Cold sweat broke out on Astaroth’s back as he realized she hadn’t disappeared. She was just moving too fast for him to see.
He directly started spirit melding, but the woman spun and whacked her buckler on the side of his head, sending him tumbling away.
When he got up, he was already fused with White Death, and his stats had their boost. He saw a blur come at him from the front and knew what it was.
He slid to the right slightly, watching something shine as it brushed past his arm before he struck his claw forward. He only scratched wood, as his hand was met with a buckler, not meeting his intended target.
The woman dashed back in a zigzag pattern, stopping four meters away from him.
“Finally showing some teeth, are you, garcon?” She said with a smirk.
“Do you still think I cannot apprehend you alone?” She added, getting serious again.
Astaroth arrogantly stretched his neck and arms.
“I was just warming up. You won’t land another hit like that, I promise.” He replied, getting back into a fighting stance.
He didn’t want to use his weapons because he thought if he could hold out until the teleportation, he wouldn’t add murder to his charges.
The woman in front of him sneered, before lifting her rapier up again.
“Tell me your name, garcon, so I know what to write on your gravestone.” She said, arrogantly.
“Astaroth.” He replied, not falling for the obvious taunt.
“Very well, Astaroth. My name is Sarnor Nacta. And today I will be your judge, jury, and executioner.” She said, still in guard position.
Astaroth only smirked. He side-eyed the timer on his interface, and it showed two minutes left.
‘Please, let me hold out that long.’ He prayed to whoever would listen.
He was acting cocky on the outside, hoping to have the woman talk as much as possible, but knew this was a double-edged blade. If he pushed her too much, she might just try to kill him instead of capturing him.
And he realized he might have already watched that ship sail, as the woman was suddenly looking at him with ice-cold eyes. If eyes could kill, Astaroth would be dead already.
He stared down at his opponent, waiting for her to make the first move. She blurred out again, dashing in a circular motion at him, her rapier to the side, ready to strike.
She got to him a moment later, piercing forward with her rapier, as Astaroth jumped back slightly, trying to claw at her from the side, only to meet her shield again.
As his claws hit the shield, he felt barely any resistance, contrary to the precedent hit, and that worried him. He was right to worry, as the woman’s arm and body followed the blow downwards.
The push forced her body into a lateral spinning motion, and she used the momentum to deliver a powerful overhead kick. Astaroth lifted his other arm to block.
He felt the leg smash into his forearm violently, like a sledgehammer meeting a brick wall, and one of his legs buckled under the weight, forcing him to kneel.
As his knee bent, he did a counter of his own and twisted his arm. He grabbed the woman’s leg before she could retract it, and used all his strength to swing her toward the ground.
As he swung, Sarnor used her other foot to kick at his wrist, loosening his grip. She got free from his grasp, getting thrown away, instead of into the ground.
She hit the ground in a rolling motion, taking barely any damage, and getting back up in one motion.
Once up, she dusted her clothes. Sarnor looked at Astaroth with a tinge of respect, as she walked towards him with a steady gait.
She stopped before reaching him and stared him down.
“You are not as bad in combat as I thought you would be, garcon. But you are still grossly underestimating me.” She said, lifting her weapon yet again.
Astaroth looked at his timer again. Only one minute left.
He braced for the next dash that would surely come, hoping the woman wouldn’t pull a one-hit KO on him.
Sarnor dashed back at him, and they clashed many times in mere seconds, Astaroth always being careful not to give her too much power.
He kept eyeing the timer as he fought, causing him to receive small kicks and buckler whacks. The seconds were ticking oh so slowly for him, but they were ticking.
When the timer reached five seconds, Astaroth started glowing. Sarnor recognized the typical glow of a transportation spell and panicked.
Mana suddenly flared up around her as she went full throttle and end this farce. Four seconds.
She dashed back out of melee range, gathering some momentum. Three seconds.
She dashed back towards Astaroth, the cobblestone beneath her feet exploding behind her steps. Two seconds.
Sarnor brought her rapier back, before thrusting it forward violently, causing the air at the tip to rip. One second.
Astaroth smiled, as the tip of the rapier approached his heart. He glowed in golden light, blinding everyone around.
Sarnor, who was closest, had to close her eyes as the glow was like a miniature sun. Had she hit her target?