Chapter 17-Welcome to the Abyss 4

Wilson ran towards the group of seven and notice that the old woman stopped after taking seven steps. Then another stopped two steps in front of her, then the next, then the next until it was only a young , ugly lady that was still moving. She leaped at him raising a small dagger above her head. Wilson raised his hands in a bid to hold hers but all he got was a kick to his face. He staggered backwards and the lady rushed at him swinging the dagger at his neck. Wilson barely dodged by roling backwards. She quickly swung the dagger at his neck again as he stood up but the hand holding the dagger was held by Wilson. Before she could do anything, Wilson squeezed her hand tightly making her drop the dagger as she winced in pain. Before she could think, Wilson had hit seven times with his fist, further disfiguring her hideous face. She cried out in pain as she staggered and fell. The noise sounded so painful, the spectators winced in pity. Before she could hit the floor, her head was removed from the rest of her body. But she was not killed by Wilson. Rather, her nearest partner had cut off her head with a white shortsword.

"Tch, too weak!" The man that had killed her said, even spitting into her bloody neck to prove his disgust.

"How disgusting!" The excited commentator said with a grimace. There was a short pause before he continued.

" Ladies and gentlemen, right before our very eyes is who is only referred to as the 'Slaughter King'. He used to be a pro executioner for the empire before he was captured after going on a killing spree. No prison has been able to hold him for longer than three months, not until he was caught and transferred to our city's prison. I am proud to tell you all that thanks to the benevolence of our nobles and the efforts of our enforcers, he has been successfully kept behind bars for five years now. He has attempted to escape time and time again and he has failed time and time again."

This information brought murmurs from the people. Some of them claimed to know him or have seen him and whatnot, but were all said under their breaths to avoid implicating themselves.

"I am very curious as to how this standoff will go. Expectant even! Is the slaughter king going to add another name to the list or will he become the slaughtered." The commentator said. As if waiting for this cue, both men rushed at each other. Wilson with his fists and the slaughter king with his shortsword. The slaughter king kicked dust into the unsuspecting Wilson, temporarily blinding him and then struck the back of his neck with his free right hand but Wilson dodged with a front roll, relying completely on his instincts. The slaughter king was shocked by Wilson's instinctual movement as he had not expected him to be skilled enough. But he wasn't flustered and he quickly swung his shortsword diagonally at Wilson's chest. Wilson jumped backwards to avoid the weapon but was a few centimeters short, resulting in the shortsword slicing through his flesh, albeit slightly. The slaughter king followed up with a stab, various slashes to different parts of the body at irregular rhythms causing Wilson to remain on his toes. Wilson saw zero opportunities to strike back and could only dodge. He took several steps backwards in an attempt to reduce the pressure on him but his opponent gave him no breathing space.

Due to the pressure, Wilson had completely forgotten to take note of his surroundings. He did not notice the people flanking him on both sides nor did he notice that he was already cornered. Not until his back hit the wall-like barrier. Then the slaughter king stopped and looked at him blankly. Wilson looked around and finally discovered how much more dangerous the situation had become. He tried to move but he was already too weak. He had lost too much blood from his previous battles. He was hungry as he had not eaten since he awoke He was bare-chested and the cold weather was not helping. He was stained in blood and filled with various cuts from head to toe. His legs wobbled, he suddenly felt something heavy hit the back of his neck and down he went, falling unconscious.

As he fell unconscious, tears streamed down his eyes. This was the end of his journey? He had not planned for any of these things to happen! Heck, he did not even want to get involved in anything, but trouble came looking for him regardless of how much he avoided it. He simply wanted to become a pro-wrestler, so he could be famous and wealthy. That was all! Yet, somehow, he ended up in trouble with the bastards called the nobles. HE could not even count how many times he had nearly died since he left the comfort of his village. Perhaps, he should have listened to his mother and the women at the village! If he had just stayed there, none of these would have happened. His uncle Dale, Maxi and his friend would still be alive! He would still be at home, sleeping ,eating and working as either a farmer or a hunter. Probably both. The pay was minimal but at least he would have remained happy and most especially alive! But he just had to be stubborn and ignore his wailing mother to move to the city. Perhaps his mother knew this would be the end-result all this while. He had messed up bad, real bad. And as he thought and reminisced and cried silently, he fell unconscious.