The trial by combat

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For a second the light seemed to go out and the next moment everything returned to normal.

Aside from the slight, tingling pain in my mouth, everything seemed to return back to the beginning of this odd day.

Calming down I finally noticed the sentence that said it was a save that was loaded. Which makes all of this a tad bit more comprehensible now.

There were two lines with little pictures near them. The first one was Auto-save which had an image of four men sitting tied on a chair. The second one was empty.

However hard I tried, there was nothing aside from that. No in-game menu, no status window or anything alike.

Even though I was a bit old for this, I did understand the concept of games and how they worked. Which means I'll be 'save scumming' as much as possible because that pain didn't feel like a game.

Meanwhile the interrogation started all over again. I skipped my turn, shaking my head. When it came to the third guy I tried to keep his words in mind. Repeating them mentally.

And then I loaded.

Everything went in the same manner and when the scar-face pulled the gag out I spoke carefully.

"Khuta jabahr."

He winced slightly and turned around, looking at his superior.

The old man came to me and said what I wanted to hear.

"Very well, you shall have the trial by combat." The first time I heard this, game of thrones immediately came to mind. Will it be the same thing here?

My ties were cut and I stood up. Noticing my tall stature right away I came to yet another realization. It wasn't my body. If returning from the dead was possible then this is a no surprise.

We walked out of the room leaving tied men with an asian woman. A tiny bit of guilt I felt was easily suppressed by the ecstasy of surviving.

We got out, went through a lengthy hallway and finally reached the training grounds. From here I could see that this place is surrounded by a tall fence and heavily guarded.

The sun was rising.

Only a wave of the old man's hand and everyone lined up before the wide platform.

I was guided to the stairs on the one side. Climbing up I saw the scar-face standing opposite of me.

Can't really judge if it's good or not as all the other people surrounding us looked as fierce as the scar-face.

"What weapon do you wield?" A woman asked, looking at me.

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The empty slot was filled the moment I willed it to.

"A sword." I replied, not knowing what else to choose.

She pulled the sword out of its scabbard and handed it to me. I examined it. It was a finely forged, multi-layered sword, made out of a metal I've never seen before.

Gripping it's hilt firmly I resolved myself to win this no matter what.

The scar-face had a curved sword in his hand and was quietly observing me, while the old man sat on his chair that stood higher than the platform we were at.

He nodded to the girl who gave me my weapon and she commanded us.

"Start."

The scar-face slowly yet steadily advanced towards me. While I did the same but with less confidence in my steps.

We were just 5 feet apart when he launched his first attack.

I was late to react but instead of raising my sword I reflexively tried to dodge. It was a miracle that I somehow evaded the second slash and started to have more confidence in my agile body.

But being a total noob in this I failed to notice that my weapon utilization was minimal which resulted in me receiving several cuts throughout my body.

The moment I realized that the next attack will most probably be my last I immediately loaded, wanting to start anew. Fearing to die again.

Next hundreds, or even thousands of tries I spent learning how to fight.

***

[Kiefer's (Scar-face's) point of view]

I stepped forward performing a simple swing, probing the opponent. He, in his turn, lunges at me, defending himself and kicking my stomach in the process.

Dusting off, I took a proper stance, expecting a hard battle.

And it was the hardest I ever had. For every offensive move made, I received a blow or a cut. This man gave me no chances. Anything I came up with was predicted, parried, and utilized in his advantage.

I felt it. This wasn't a fight. Nothing depended on me reacting on time, or searching for the flaws in his movements. I am a very skilled swordsman and that's a fact. Every shadow must be ready to face death for The Great One and I am ready. But the dread I am feeling never ceases.

It was a long while that I felt this helpless. I looked at my lord, Ra's al Ghul, knowing that it was the last chance to take a glimpse at the one I full heartedly devoted my life to. But to my surprise, the fatal blow never came. Instead, I fell on the ground with the man's sword pointed at me. A total defeat.