"Who said I'm Travis? I am the second Duke of Guadantam, Duke Benoth Marak," Benoth said as he stood up.
Benoth slowly turned his head, shifting his gaze toward the sound of the voice. From the bushes ahead, a man stepped out. He wore a yellow outfit, and a sinister aura radiated from his body, making the air around him feel heavy.
Benoth's breathing unconsciously slowed, his instincts screaming long before his mind caught up.
"Well, I'm Italo. Your playmate," the man replied with a twisted smile as he slowly approached. "I don't know why you're denying your past. Don't you know you were a legend?"
'This man was able to take out Drad and the horse. It is clear even from his aura alone, he is definitely mid Grade two,' Benoth thought.
"I said I'm not Travis. And are you the one going around killing people?" Benoth asked.
Italo remained silent, his grin widening, confirming Benoth's suspicion.
"Playdate? Playmate? What nonsense are you talking about? Why did you kill them? Why are you killing people?" Benoth demanded.
"What do you think?" Italo replied casually. "I kill those people for fun."
He tilted his head slightly, as if savoring Benoth's reaction.
"And for them," he added, pointing toward the corpses of Drad and the horse. "They were unwelcomed visitors to our playdate."
Benoth's expression turned ice cold. His jaw tightened, and his grip on the sword hardened until his knuckles turned pale. In the next instant, the world seemed to blur.
He shot forward with terrifying speed.
A sharp sound of tearing fabric rang out, followed by the wet sound of flesh being sliced. Before Italo could react, a deep gash opened across his chest, dangerously close to his heart. Blood spilled freely, running down his torso and dripping into the dirt below.
The smell of blood spread through the air.
Silence followed.
Then Italo laughed.
It was not a cry of pain or fear, but a low, breathless laugh filled with delight, as if he had just witnessed something beautiful.
The sound crawled under Benoth's skin.
"Hahaha. If I hadn't shifted a little at the last second, you would have killed me," Italo said, placing a hand over the wound. Blood coated his fingers. "Ah… that hurts. That really hurts."
He lifted his head, his eyes burning with excitement rather than anger.
"I never thought you'd be this strong, let alone capable of injuring me," he continued. "I'll admit it. For a moment, I thought you would disappoint me. Turns out I was wrong. This playdate just became far more exciting."
Benoth said nothing. His eyes were fixed on the wound.
The bleeding was slowing, no, it wasn't slowing, it was stopping. Benoth's pupils shrank.
Benoth immediately launched himself forward again, going for an upward strike. Italo sprang back to his feet and raised his dagger to block. The blades collided with a loud clang, sending a numbing shock through both of them.
They recoiled, staring at each other.
"It seems you underestimated me," Italo said.
"It seems so," Benoth replied coldly. "I know you aren't fighting at full strength, not to mention your flow skills. That means you're saving a special move."
"Very perceptive," Italo said. "I guess being a Duke has its perks."
He drew another dagger from his back, tightening his grip before leaping onto a tree.
He began jumping from tree to tree like a seasoned assassin, clearly aiming to attack from above.
The rustling leaves made it impossible to track his exact position.
Benoth remained unmoving. Not because Italo was fast, but because moving recklessly would only make things worse. Staying grounded and guarding properly gave him the best chance to counter attacks from any angle.
"It seems sitting behind a desk didn't dull your fighting instincts," Italo said. "Good. Now get ready and don't disappoint me."
'This man is mentally unstable. To him, this is a game. No wonder he keeps talking about a playdate. He's sick, and that's all the more reason to end his life,' Benoth thought.
Right.
Clang!
Sparks flew as Benoth blocked a sudden strike. His arm went numb.
'How much strength is he still hiding? If this goes wrong, I'll have to use that.' Benoth inwardly thought.
Italo pressed his dagger harder against the sword. "This is just the first strike. Don't quit on me now."
Benoth shoved the dagger away and delivered a powerful kick, sending Italo flying. Midair, Italo twisted into a backflip and landed atop a tree, coughing up a mouthful of blood.
Benoth was almost impressed. Italo had already lost a lot of blood. Benoth suspected his flow skill involved blood stimulation, but that still didn't explain how he had pierced the head of both Drad and the horse so cleanly.
"Hahaha, that's why I like the strong," Italo said, licking the blood from his hand. His eyes turned bloodthirsty. He then vanished into the shadows of a nearby tree.
Benoth stayed rooted in place.
Up
Clang!
Right
Clang!
Left
Clang!
Benoth blocked every strike, but his hands were growing numb.
Each impact sent fresh pain up his arms, his grip weakening bit by bit.
'If I don't act now, my arms will give out. The next opening must be mine,' he decided.
"Don't tell me you're giving up on me, Duke Benoth!" Italo growled as he leapt again.
Now.
Benoth suddenly charged forward, confusing Italo.
"What is he doing? If he's fleeing, I'll kill him. I despise weakling," Italo muttered as he pursued.
Benoth leapt onto a tree and, as Italo closed in, descended with a powerful slash. The attack tore through Italo's shirt but missed flesh.
Benoth froze.
His sword fell to the ground. His face drained of color.
A tattoo was exposed on Italo's back, Benoth's thoughts went blank.
"It can't be… This is impossible," Benoth whispered. He picked up his sword and pointed it at Italo. "Who are you? Why do you have that tattoo?"
"I thought you'd forgotten," Italo said with a sadistic grin. "But I guess not, old friend, Travis."
Benoth's brows furrowed. "Are you… are you him?"
"What? Surprised?"
"Then why are you doing this? Killing for fun? For money? What happened to you after that day? Tell me. Tell me, Amata," Benoth said, his voice trembling.
The past he had buried clawed its way back to the surface.
In that instant, Benoth dropped his guard.
Italo took advantage.
A brutal kick sent Benoth flying over seventy meters, crashing into farmland.
Thud!
Benoth slammed into a field of maize, using his sword to support himself as he stood. He spat out a mouthful of blood, his insides feeling completely shattered.
"Who said I'm Amata?" Italo said as he approached. "I am the leader and sole member of the Seventh Sect. Italo."
'Leader and solo member of the Seventh Sect?' Benoth muttered as blood dripped from his lips.
He straightened, staring at the bloody, shirtless figure twenty meters away. "Amata or Italo, it doesn't matter. For what you've done, I won't forgive you."
"Forgiveness?" Italo scoffed. "You may be a little stronger than me, but that doesn't mean you can kill me."
"Let's find out."
Benoth charged again.
"It seems you're underestimating me by not using your full power," Italo said.
He dodged Benoth's strike and hurled a blade from behind his foot. Benoth twisted his wrist, redirecting his sword to block it. As he turned, Italo was already beside him.
Too late.
Ahhhhhhhhh
The dagger sank into Benoth's side, fracturing a rib. His sword fell, but he reacted instantly, twisting Italo's arm and delivering a punch fueled by pain and fury. Italo was sent flying into an orchard tree.
Benoth pulled the dagger out. The wound began to close, then suddenly stopped.
Blood gushed out.
"That bastard poisoned it," Benoth cursed. He tore off his shirt and wrapped it tightly around the wound to slow the bleeding.
He grabbed his sword and rushed toward the orchard.
Italo stood still, watching, which made confused, Then he noticed an old man nearby, yelling at Italo an was understood the situation.
'Damn it,' Benoth cursed inwardly.
"Hey you! Get out of here! You're trespassing!" the old man shouted, mistaking Italo for a thief.
Italo ignored him and smiled inwardly as he saw Benoth approaching looking bloody and wounded.
"I've got a new game," he said. "And we're going to play it now, it's called save the old trash."
Benoth's heart sank.
"If you save him before I kill him, he lives. If you don't, he dies anyway. Your time... starts... now!"
The old man noticed that Italo was ignoring him and speaking to someone else, so he followed his gaze to see who it was. The moment he saw the blood-soaked figure approaching, his breath caught in his throat. He recognized him, it was the second duke, duke Benoth.
After a few seconds, understanding dawned on him, and he realized he should not be here.
"If you save him before I kill him, he lives. If you don't, he dies anyway. Your time... starts... now!"
Italo raised is index finger and pointed it at the old man.
He turned to flee, but just as he moved, he saw Italo pointing at him. Confusion flashed through his mind, yet fear drove him forward, and he didn't dare stop.
[Water Flow Stimulation 3: Water Pin]
The water spiral tightened, vibrating violently it rotated until it was like a long pin.
"Go."
Clang!
Italo's eyes widened in shock, Benoth stood before the old man, blocking the attack.
Impossible.
"He was over a hundred meters away, plus the poison inside of him," Italo muttered. "A peak grade two can't do this unless... he's mid or peak grade three."
"This just got more fun." he grinned like a madman.
"I won't hold back anymore, it's time to end this. Old man, run!" Benoth shouted.
"Thank you, Duke Benoth!" the man cried as he fled.
"Hahaha! Even if you're grade three, you can still die by my hands!" Italo roared.
"Let's see who ends up dead then," Benoth scoffed as he took his stance.
[Fire Flow Stimulation 1: Sparks]
Benoth steadied his breath, ambers cracked and danced along his sword.
Boom!
The ground beneath their feet cracked as they charged toward each other at terrifying speed.