Chapter 18

Clifford was gasping for air on one knee, and his left eye twitching from the blood trickling from his forehead.

Eight knights surrounded him from all sides, each having a pair as a defense and offense. They circled around him, moving counterclockwise, snickering as they moved.

This was the exact scenario he was avoiding all this time. He can't help but chuckle, finding it hilarious that he was thinking some unknown force was toying with him.

Thankfully, his two companions were holding their own against their opponents, providing him with enough back up.

"Sir otherworlder, are you all right?"

Galford noticed how the man was being overwhelmed. Though they wished to help, they were barely putting up a fight.

They weren't just outnumbered, the difference in their level and skill were unmatched.

"I'm fine! Can you go ahead without me?"

Clifford was having second thoughts to increase the percentage of his attack. After his gaze had wandered around, he'd assessed the entire place was going to cave in if he does one more massive blast.

"They'll mob you if we do that."

Hallor gritted his teeth, not wanting to abandon the man.

"You think we will let you leave here?"

The knights laugh, their blades glowing as they readied for another set of attacks.

Clifford grinned, wiping the blood off his face.

From eighty percent, they'd only reduce it to seventy-five. And even after using those odd weapons.

"Well, seeing as you're having a hard time taking me out, there is a high chance half of you won't be going anywhere, either."

Though he cannot deny their skills, teamwork, and experience, he became confident he can take them on if he went on full throttle.

"Arrogant, fool!"

A red knight growled, his dual sword blazing upon activation, as he crouch, ready to pounce. The others followed, directing their weapons at the otherworlder.

Clifford took a quick glance, nodding at the two as they stood there, adamant about moving.

"Go on, you're only holding me down."

Thankfully, the older warrior understood what he wanted, bowing his head to say okay.

"Apologies, sir."

Galford grabs his comrade before dashing for the entrance as the youngster remained frozen in place.

"Don't let them get away!"

A black knight shouts to his other companion, who was facing the two. Both of them were keen to give chase, laughing as they ran.

"Hey, what about me?"

Clifford gritted through a menacing smile.

He snatched the knight's neck the minute he appeared behind them, before they can even take another step.

The way they played with them tick him off.

Good thing the group became complacent with him, having beaten him a while ago.

Though it wasn't on purpose, he could not let pass the chance to absorb more skills, with so many new ones being thrown at him.

In minutes, the two disappeared, teleported out of there as their hp turned yellow from his touch. It was no surprise, using the full power of the wind slash on his palms, along with hitting an expose spot, causing a critical strike.

It was no surprise they'd be the first to fall, being the lowest level among the group.

"Damn you, otherworlder!"

The black knights charge with their weapons, eyes filled with such ferocity it looks like they glowed, the same color as their dark swords.

Clifford released a loud groan after deflecting the attack with his bare hands.

Thanks to the benefit of mixing the skills body resistance and wind slash.

He was getting the hang of how to use the ability, together with normal attacks.

"Damn, that smarts."

He winced at the immense pain coming from his back.

Shards of ice pierced through his skin, along with several spiked stones emerging from the floor. It was the combined attack of the colored knights.

Luckily, he remained toughened, stopping the points from completely digging into his body.

But the group immediately followed their assault, skewering him in place with spears.

"Volcanic missiles!"

In a moment of desperation, Clifford use another mixed ability he had gotten from the youths.

He did not care if it was eating up his mana, as he wanted to give them as much damage as he can.

Chunks of giant boulders wrapped in lava started flying all over the place, causing the walls and roofs to fall.

A few areas of the maze toppled, but it held on after the bombardment stopped.

That left him with six more enemies, having taken down another with a falling pillar.

He was at fifty percent hp already, which meant the last beating he got was quite a heavy one. As all of them focused on offense.

He grit his teeth in irritation. Not only were the knights of high level, their skills were formidable.

The way they evaded his blast and all those debris spoke a lot about their experience in battle.

Also, they were sturdier than the others, thanks to those magical armor they had.

"It's as we've heard. He's an abomination."

The red knight scoffs, spitting blood as he rose from the rubble. His helmet had gotten melted from being grazed.

In minutes, the other emerge from the dust, in which buried them, their gaze now having that serious murderous glint.

"We must stop him here at all costs."

A knight's voice boomed within the halls, instigating another hurrah from his companions. Increasing their morale, as they were more pump up to fight.

Clifford's eyes squinted. His thoughts got riled up upon hearing that. It meant something, and he wanted to know what it was, but it will be impossible to ask the reason.

"I don't understand why you think that way, but I ain't going down that easy."

Even in his world, he had learned when to retaliate, else you'll end up getting trampled by others. A thing that seems common there as well.

"For the empire!"

The group charge with a burning ferocity, their every steps cause the earth to rumble.

Clifford got taken aback, seeing how they all went at him at once. Not a single one showing any kind of restraint or caution.

But this was not enough for him to falter as he took them head on. Throwing everything he got at them.

Ice, fire, and earth flew everywhere as they clashed. Not a single one backing down.

The ceiling began breaking, parts of it falling. Together with the walls giving in from each hit and blast. The ground rumbled with each explosion, opening from the cracks and craters.

All of them were bent on taking down on another, they barely took note of how much time had passed.

They only stopped when their stamina finally got spent, along with their mana.

He was now at thirty percent, the same with the others. The group truly was formidable, and he was no longer sure if he will win, with his bars nearing depletion.

But before he can even come up with a plan, four of the enemy's charge at him again. He cursed when his legs gave in from exhaustion, trembling from losing strength.

He let out a deafening cry when two of them pinned him down, piercing a leg with a spear and his foot with a sword.

Both individuals smirk, having held Clifford down, oblivious that the guy's palm directing at them.

"Meteor missiles!"

A burst of burning hail bombarded the attackers, immediately taking them down, together with the part of the maze.

Because of this, that specific area gave in, burying them all in large chunks of debris.

They can hear the cheers from outside, the crowd going crazy upon watching how a single man faced an elite group by himself.

Until a sudden event turned into a long moment of waiting, as nobody came out of the pile of wreckage.

Silence took over the entire arena.

Even Arty and the others ended up gasping, eyes widening as Clifford's body did not get teleported into the tent.

While the knights members were already there.

"Look, something's moving!"

Jack was the first to notice the corroding mound of dirt.

A few more minutes and a hand burst forth from under there, then a few more came out. One by one, the remaining contenders emerged from the carnage.

Clifford was gasping for air the minute he got out. His life bar was blinking. A few more points and he'd be in the red, which would prompt him to get teleported.

He cursed upon seeing that there were still three enemies there, all of them were the highest level within the group.

They, too, were panting, huffing hungrily.

There was a sudden standstill. Once again, they were in a staring competition. Both Clifford and the knights became wary of each other as they waited it out.

No mana, his strength and skill were the only thing he had. As he somehow rested while buried in that pile of stones.

"Take him down!"

One of the remaining warriors screamed aloud, this prompted the others to activate their weaponry. Their blades glowing from concentrating energy.

"Seems this is it for me."

Clifford mumbles to himself, realizing he won't be able to dodge that combined attack.

Tired and satisfied with his haul of new skills, he finally gave up, not wanting to waste any more energy on that fight.

He takes in a deep breath, preparing to receive the sharp edges of the weapons directed at him.

With clenched teeth, he readies himself for the torture, along with the sensation of being transported.

But the moment he felt the sting driving into his body, he ended up releasing a loud roar.

He was unprepared for the searing pain crawling on several parts of his insides.

His eyes grew wide, seeing how his bar kept decreasing, turning red. But he still did not get magically transferred to the healing tent.

At that point, it left him with no other choice but to throw a punch at the closest opponent, breaking the weapon along with it.

Instantly, the person disappeared. That confirmed the spell was active. So came the question of why it did not work for him.

Fear took hold of Clifford, sensing he may really die there, as the other two fighters continued pushing their blades into him.

With no other options, he had no other choice but to use his trump card. And here he thought he could hide it longer.

"Final stand!"

His voice was but a whisper, but it was enough to turn the spell on.

Different colored flames immediately burst from his body.

It covered certain parts of him with their own unique glow, creating something similar to an armor made of fire.

This also created a temporary bar for his hit points and mana, yet it burned out a percentage of his actual life force.

Poised for time, he no longer wasted any moment using the most powerful ability in his arsenal.

"Meteor bomb!"

And with just that, a large part of the arena got covered in a dome of light, releasing an immense gust of wind all throughout the place.

There was an immediate gasp and scream among the crowd, as some nearly getting blown away by it.

Once everything subsided, Clifford was the only one remaining standing within the giant crater.

He clenched his teeth, seeing he only had about ten percent left in his bar, but he remained bloodied and wheezing in that place.

He quickly checks the fragments of blades still stuck on him.

There was nothing there mentions anything about nullifying magic or the likes. So he can't understand why he was not leaving the arena.

It was only when Clifford's body gave in, did Jack and the others finally jump out of the audience.

The youths running straight for him upon realizing what has happened.

He can hear their voices calling out to him, but having used that ability drained every ounce of strength he had left, he could barely move a muscle.

Everything turned blurry, as the sounds all around him faded, darkening with each passing second. Until his entire sight had finally become pitch black.

A whisper then hummed from the recess of his mind, laughing and talking repeatedly in his subconscious.

And just like that, he was back within the void, the place, before he got transported into that other world.

Though something was different, as he felt ethereal, lightheaded, and somewhat dreaming.

"What's going on?"

His thoughts echoed through the empty space, recurring even after he had stopped already. His eyes quickly wandered around, trying to see anything familiar, but there was none.

"Who's there?"

He tried calling out, aware there are other beings within the place that can summon them. Unknowns that he cannot explain or comprehend.

In a minute, an ominous voice replaced his own, copying the same words he said.

This continued for a few seconds until he noticed where it was coming from.

Below him was a purple ring of light, humming, rippling, and resounding each time.

"It's you, isn't it? The one who summoned me here."

It was the only thing he can think of, somewhat getting an idea that what was going on with him was not a coincidence and by chance, now that he was there again.

But there was no reply, only silence, that even his thoughts remained back in the confines of his head.

It was then that other voices started reverberating from the void, all of them familiar, saying the same thing like a broken music record.

"Get up, sir Clifford."

It was the youngsters calling out to him, trying to awaken him out of that deep slumber. But his entirety remained weak, numb, and ghostly.

Tired, he didn't really have the energy to pull himself up. The weight and grasp of the darkness was more lulling.

"Time to wake up, my chosen one!"

The ominous tone pulled him from the void, shoving him straight into reality, back into his body.

He let out a muffled scream the minute he returned, as the immense pain of all his wounds rush at him, like a dam of hurt suddenly being broken.

His eyes quickly wandered, frowning as he saw he remained bloody and filled with holes.

There was this sting on his wrists and legs, making his head turn. He can't help but furrow more, seeing the rope tied to parts of his body, holding him down on a stone table.

An icy chill crawled through him, together with numbness and a pang, pulsating with every heartbeat and breath he takes.

Clifford grumbled and struggled, tasting dirt in his mouth, along with the ringing sounds in his hears.

He is certain he is within the castle, seeing the bricked ceiling above his head. Also, a few curtains adorned with those odd yet intricate drawings hanging on the wall.