An eye for an eye

Chapter 13: An eye for an eye

Imagine having ten million dollars in your bank account, sounds good, right? But you can't use them and just look at those zeros with pent-up irritation; why you ask? Well, imagine a tax office preying for new millionaires, a jealous neighbor who would notify everyone and those above the law, or maybe even a girlfriend who would splurge half of your money in one day; there could be many reasons.

Holding just a plain-looking silver sword, that was more or less how Bryce felt, his eyes on Arnold and his archer friend donned in their usual hunting equipment. Compared to them, Bryce was naked, seemingly having a weapon of worse quality than the duo.

But only Gengo knew what kind of power dwelled within Bryce, only he knew that his friend's sword could turn into a sacred treasure and bloody weapon, and, if unleashed, he would get more skills to deal with higher-leveled residents. If just Bryce could step on a different path and leverage at least one side of his, Gengo wouldn't be so worried!

It was not so easy, though.

Yet, Bryce treasured his freedom.

'If I can contest them without any abilities other than my swordsmanship, I will be more confident to use both heroic and demonic abilities in the outer world. I must find a way to hide their characteristics,' Bryce inwardly thought more about his future.

He wasn't focused on a battle that would start soon just because he knew what exactly he had to do. In his current position, all naked and with just a sword, what other than his body could Bryce use?

Standing in the middle of the town, with many observes in the background of the wooden houses, Bryce imagined some western cowboy movie, but it wouldn't be two cowboys distancing themselves then turning around to shoot at each other, it would be a swordsman going at the heavily armored guy and his buddy archer.

He peeked at the clock on the highest tower in the village, confirmed the time, then put his hand on his sword's hilt. His weapon was hidden within an unworthy sheath.

Arnold raised his shield and clenched his broad sword with anticipation; his archer friend pulled the bowstring, one arrow trembling as he trained it on Bryce's eye.

There was no judge in that battle, so they could only start fighting at the right time. There weren't any rules, either, so the archer could take the position and be ready to shoot the arrow at any time. Of course, some hidden rules were still in place, such as no killing or torturing.

No villager would accept these two practices in the middle of their village and broad day!

At last, as the clock ticked and it became half past twelve, Arnold's shield let out a reddish glint!

"Come here and suffer!" he screamed from the bottom of his heart, his voice roaring with delight and built anger, clearly impatient to see Bryce going blind, suffering from his overconfidence. Arnold gritted his teeth when he saw that Bryce managed to lift his left forearm to protect his eyes.

Still, the taunt had seamlessly hit him; no way Arnold would have missed that.

But then, the ground shook, the air whistled, and Bryce charged forward like a bull. His speed gripped the hearts of all onlookers, including Arnold and his archer friend, for Bryce had moved so fast as though he was jumping forward, his body welcomed the taunt!

And while the crowd gasped in surprise, their hearts remained excited, the same couldn't be said about Arnold and his friend. Yes, the arrow had easily lodged itself in Bryce's arm, but had that stopped him? Of course it hadn't, and it seemed like Bryce's speed heightened instead.

'The taunt… It's a powerful skill, but a hunter struggling with trolls can't possibly master it, I knew you would taunt me from the start, turn my movements predictable to allow your friend hurt me before using that sword of yours to hit me.'

In Arnold's hands, taunt was a skill that made his opponents attack him in the most basic way; it drove limbs of affected toward him, made victims slower, and was basically just that. Of course, his taunt was still a dangerous skill, but far from its perfect form, that didn't mean much to Arnold as he enjoyed irked expressions of the bandits and monsters as he used that skill on them.

No matter what race, they look pitiful and amusing after losing control over their limbs. They always bite their lips or wordlessly bob them, wrinkled their foreheads, and their eyes became glazed with fear and wrath: even one of those reactions agitated Arnold, and all of them was a real thrill.

None of that appeared on Bryce, though.

After covering his eyes just fine with his left hand, Bryce gladly took Arnold's invitation to dance, throwing his body at him. He wasn't shy, and, to test his skills, he would never refuse an invitation to the dance with someone stronger than him, so how could he lament a loss of control over his limbs?

He even supported 'them' to bring him to Arnold.

And when his body performed the most basic slash with one hand, Bryce's common move nowadays, he brought his left hand down, his smiling face and that peculiar madness within his eyes that only a few students around his age and masters of swords knew on Earth, squeezed Arnold's heart as though he saw a demon.

Bryce's sword then cut through the steel shield as though butter, and he left a clear see-through slice on it. The impact of his strength and the quality of his weapon pushed Arnold onto his back, too, so free of any taunt effect, Bryce promptly seized his opportunity, stomped on Arnold's right wrist with his whole weight, then spun to kick away the shield.

"Ahhhh!" Arnold shrieked, his voice heightened over time. He felt like an elephant had trampled his right hand, and his left hand ached as though Bryce had ripped it away and reattached it a second later; his kick was that powerful! And then, Bryce lodged his sword in Arnold's forearm.

While the man below him cried in pain, Bryce sensed a few arrows going at him, no longer aiming for his eyes but for many vital points on his body, he ducked and believed he'd avoided them all, but the arrows bent and hit him. Bryce grimaced, the pain he had never felt before billowed, and his clothes became wet as blood stained them.

He stood up as though those wounds hadn't hurt him, some protruding arrows fell off his body, shocking experienced archers, and he pulled his sword out of Arnold's forearm, the wound spat some blood.

Bryce instantly darted at the archer, who had been trying to escape his senses with his skills, and thrust his sword into the man's eyes, not playing nicely at all. The tip of his sword sank slightly into the man's eye socket.

"Ahhh!" the archer screamed for a few seconds before losing consciousness; blood streamed from his left eye, and with that gone, he no longer will look at the world the same.

Still not having any feeling of cutting through someone's valuable body registered, Bryce turned around and looked at Arnold, who strained to stand up. He didn't seem like someone who would surrender, and with the crowd of his home village, no way he would raise a white flag.

He became uglier when he tried to raise his broad sword, his face was so red, so contorted and shiny with sweat, that many women and girls looked away from him. Arnold couldn't use his sword at all, and his shield dangled from his left hand; he was so powerless.

Bryce, having utter control now, sauntered closer, his aura was unrecognizable. In the hearts of experienced hunters, he seemed like a monster in human skin; for people around Bryce's age and his new friends, he seemed too cool and someone worthy of training with!

But Sharla was the most confused, and out of all people, she couldn't recognize her friend at all. She saw some holiness within him, for she had been training for that, but in her eyes, Bryce was someone who made holiness seem wicked.

How absurd was that?

"An eye for an eye."

And those words surely weren't the words of the hero!