Staring at the monster of a man in front of me, I tightened my grip around the Sword of Sparda.
No words.
We lunged at the same time.
Roland's katana melted into black liquid mid motion, reforming into the same oversized greatsword he'd been using to bully me since this mess started.
CLANG!
Steel screamed as our weapons collided, the impact sending both of us flying backward.
I slammed Sparda into the ground, carving a trench just to slow myself down.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Gunfire erupted instantly.
I snapped my wings forward, crossing them into a barrier. Bullets slammed into them, sparks flying but the trade off was obvious.
Zero visibility.
The moment I retracted my wings.
Roland was already there.
Kneeling.
Point blank.
A black and white shotgun aimed directly at my chest.
"…Shit."
BANG!
The blast sent me flying, my body skidding across the ruined street before slamming hard into the ground.
Still I never let go of Sparda.
If anything, my grip tightened.
I pushed myself up slowly. There was a gaping hole in my chest, steam rising from it before flesh began stitching itself back together.
"Tsk." I clicked my tongue.
Using my wings like extra limbs, I launched myself forward again.
Roland switched weapons mid-motion his guns dissolving into a gauntlet as he caught my blade barehanded, stopping Sparda cold with his palm.
Then his other hand grabbed my hair.
And slammed my head straight into the ground.
"You're harder to kill than that little monster friend of yours," he said calmly.
I barely registered it.
This wasn't about winning anymore.
This wasn't even about pride.
This was survival.
I grabbed his ankle, catching him off-guard, and twisted throwing him across the street.
He rolled, flipped, and landed cleanly on his feet.
"…Damn it," I muttered.
I was stronger. Faster. Tougher. I regenerated like a cheat code.
But it didn't matter.
He was just better.
I'd relied on raw stats and augments. He'd lived through real battles. Wars. Loss.
Experience.
I used Sparda to pull myself upright as the last of my wounds vanished.
BANG! BANG!
I raised my wings again but this time I didn't stay still.
The instant they blocked my vision, I stepped back.
"Getting smarter?" Roland said.
It sounded less like praise and more like mockery.
I clenched my jaw as I retracted my wings.
…Wait.
My wings.
They weren't just shields.
They were limbs.
An idea sparked.
I lunged again this time using my wings offensively. The sharp edges slashed toward his shoulders, his sides, forcing him back instead of meeting me head-on.
Roland hopped away, narrowly avoiding them.
"You finally figured that out," he said. "Took you long enough."
That settled it.
He wasn't overpowering me.
He was playing me.
"Roland," I growled, breathing heavy, "let's talk this out."
I hated how desperate that sounded but I had no better option.
I couldn't run. He had guns. Maybe a sniper. Who knew what else.
And I didn't know how long this Devil Trigger knockoff would last.
If it shut off mid-fight?
I was dead.
"Talk?" he replied coldly. "Then tell me why you're similar to that thing, Dante."
His voice was empty.
Not angry.
Just… done.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, raising my guard again.
No more reckless charges.
If aggression got me beaten every time.
Then I'd fight defensively.
And if that didn't work…
…I'd have to think outside the box.
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Please do leave a review so I shall find ways how to make the story better it would be much appreicated ♥️.
I do accept criticism since through criticism is how a person improve themself just dont be hurtful and thank you for the stones Raahh!!