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Echoes of the ages

——-Warning Mature language——- During a school trip, six teenagers stumble upon a mysterious game wheel that transports them to a different dimension. Every midnight, they must fight for a chance at a normal life, though they've never known what "normal" truly means. They grapple with questions of purpose and survival: What are they fighting for? Why were they chosen to endure such horrors? Shifting between realms and battling beasts beyond mortal comprehension, they struggle to make a home in a world that wants them gone. Join this campaign. Embark on this journey. ————————— I hope you enjoy this story. love y’all, peace out

SakenRickman · Kỳ huyễn
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
77 Chs

chapter 54- so called glimpse

I had to stretch, for our next battle I had been beaten and battered, so my body was aching.

But then I stopped due to a voice.

"James, I want to thank you. Without you, we wouldn't have made it this far. Your leadership has been commendable. We all made the right choice choosing you. Well done," Max said, surprising me. It seems he was finally not beating himself up, at least for now.

"My leadership skills are lacking. My tactics are random, and I'm not a tactical thinker, but thank you, your words mean a lot. We will survive, okay? If I've learned anything about these trials, it's that wisdom and wit are keys, but that wasn't all, creativity was also a big factor," I said. "And I need all of us to think outside the box. We have what seems like a long road ahead of us. I need both you and Thomas as my eye and ears I can't do this alone, and I want all of us to survive, I want us to look back at all of this and say a giant FUCK YOU."

"Got it. I'm not a fast thinker, nor a quick learner, but once you command me to do something, I do the best of my abilities, literally," Max replied.

"Good to hear. Now it's best we stretch, meditate, or rest before our next battle, but do not let your guard down, both of you. I'm looking at you, Thomas," I said, staring at Thomas in the corner of my eye.

"I know it's been hard, but there is an end to all of this, I know. So, let's not give in to our fears. Let it out, express it, don't suppress it," I said.

I then walk to the walls and dropped to my knees, facing the walls. I was trying to calm myself with mantras or praying. I needed a way to calm myself to be at my pinnacle. I needed to be the prime version of myself for the next fight.

Minutes flew by, yet my face was still scrunched together, my brows in deep tension. I just couldn't get my mind off it. I was too tense. I needed an outlet. Praying and meditation weren't helping either. Maybe thinking of a battle plan would help.

How could it? We were going in blind. We may not know our enemy, but that didn't mean we shouldn't learn more about our limits and our improvements.

I breathed in, letting my body revitalize itself, as I stood up. My dagger hadn't left my hand in a long time.

Blades were used for stabbing and killing, but was it monsters that I would be killing or humans? If it was a monster, then it would be frightening to face. But if it was humans, did I have the resolve, the determination to survive to murder? Was I that desperate that even my moral compass would allow me to do such a thing? I have lived. I know how much history just one life can hold. A simple beggar, on the side of a road, would have a tale that could be written in a book longer than the Bible, all that history, all those emotions of joy, anger and love they felt in their lives, and I would have the choice of ending it all right there.

No, I needed to focus on the moment instead of the future and the past. Spinning the daggers around my fingers, I then stopped as I moved my feet apart from each other, forming a battle stance. This was called Arnis, a self-defense technique. I didn't have the traditional sticks, but only real daggers would have to do. The sticks are called escrima sticks.

I moved my left, then my right, performing two simple swings of my daggers. "Swing at a fast pace" was a simpler term used for this fighting style, but you have to be agile, fast, and have good balance since staying in your enemy's range is dangerous for both your opponent and yourself.

Then I twirled behind me, swinging down, then up, then tried stabbing motions, crossing my arms as a blocking motion. I was dancing with the blades now, my form and stance quickly becoming formless. I wasn't that skilled yet. My formless switch was due to me losing that flow, that rhythm. I needed it back. Control was the answer, fighting with a pattern, but adjusting if needed. Fighting was more than a tool of killing. Over the course of many ages where it has been improved and improvised over many generations, it made its way into our generation as a way of life, an art many would say.