Chapter 68 — Defeated
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A series of attacks was launched at Socrates, who weaved through them with great precision as he calmly and cleanly dodged every strike.
The slash... The cut... The stab... The strike... The smash...
None of them were able to reach him—or so he thought—when he suddenly felt biting pains erupt all over his body, sharp and cold like ice cutting into flesh...
Cut. Cut. Cut... Cut...
Different slashes from sword strikes appeared all over his body... Although not deep, they were numerous and left behind a stinging, burning pain as blood seeped through his clothes.
He was surrounded instantly by the men, who had seen a renewed hope... He stood in their midst, his clothes drenched in his own blood, while he stared at himself in confusion...
"What's happening to me? I dodged all these attacks—why am I still getting cut?" Socrates asked himself...
"Did something affect my perception?" He asked again—but there was no one to answer him...
And then a Brownhounds member charged at him...
'If I dodge... I'll still get hit... I'd rather face him head-on.'
So instead of stepping back as he always did, Socrates stretched his hand forward and grabbed hold of the blade with his bare hand, stopping the strike mid-motion, the metal biting into his palm...
The eyes of the man widened in shock... 'How can someone stop a sword by grabbing the blade?'
Socrates didn't waste any time—he pulled the sword out of the man's hand with great force, and the blade flew out of his own grip, spinning violently before stabbing through the two mobs that were coming at him from behind...
'He's a monster...' The Brownhounds member thought as he turned to flee—but Socrates' punch had already connected with his head, plunging him into the ground with a heavy thud.
"This fight... I've to be on the offensive." Socrates had done with dodging or taking precautions...
He had figured out that something must have gone wrong with his perception—which made him go all out, relying purely on his physique...
Punch after punch...
Shout after shout...
Thud after thud...
In the next three minutes, the Son of Trueblood thrashed all the members of the Brownhounds guild without sparing one... He beat them to the brink of death, making sure he destroyed parts of their bodies, leaving broken limbs and shattered forms scattered across the snow...
While doing so, he also received wounds and cuts all over his body, which caused him to lose a lot of blood, the warmth of it steaming faintly in the freezing air...
He turned toward the direction where Malena and Brawyn were standing, watching the whole fight unfold... They were the only two among the Brownhounds guild members that were still standing...
"Deal with the girl... I'll deal with him..." Malena said to Brawyn as she advanced toward Socrates...
Brawyn then turned toward Kamira with a grin plastered on his face... "Time to have some fun, bitch." He grinned as he rushed at her.
...
Meanwhile, Socrates watched Malena approach him... His eyes trailed to her long, slender legs as she catwalked toward him...
His eyes strained... Her legs turned from two to four... and from four to six...
He watched as she got closer to him, and with each step, his senses dulled, the world tilting unnaturally...
'What's happening? Why is my body acting weird?' He asked himself...
Then Malena struck out with a straight kick...
He saw it...
He saw the leg coming straight to his face as he prepared to dodge it by swaying his head leftward—when one leg multiplied into two... and two into four...
Socrates was now seeing four legs coming straight at his face... He couldn't tell which one was real—so he chose to veer to the right—
—and the bottom of Malena's heel slammed into his face, the impact cracking through the air and sending his body crashing to the ground.
Malena smiled mischievously as she twirled the dagger in her hand before sending one flying straight toward Socrates' head...
The red-haired youth recognized the danger and quickly rolled to the side, snow scattering, before pulling himself off the ground...
Malena retrieved her dagger cleanly as she dashed in instantly, striking out toward Socrates' abdomen...
Socrates moved back to dodge the attack—or he thought he did—
—but in reality, he moved forward, which caused both daggers to tear into his lower abdomen, ripping through flesh as blood gushed out...
Socrates was no longer the Socrates we once knew...
The Socrates before us was doing the exact opposite of what he intended to do...
He knew it... He could feel it... He knew he was making the right moves...
But then why did it feel like he was doing everything wrong?
'Maybe it's just like the others... I've to counter her through brute strength...'
Socrates watched as she closed in—and he also closed in...
She struck out with both daggers as he twisted his neck and grabbed hold of her left wrist, while allowing the dagger to sink into his right shoulder, the blade piercing through muscle...
He yanked one of the daggers from her grip, which he used to deflect her next attack...
With the difference in strength between them, Socrates was able to throw Malena off balance—and then quickly plunged the dagger deep into her lower abdomen...
"Sorry, beautiful... I've to end this quickly..." Socrates whispered into her ear...
"Yes... It'll end sooner..." She giggled into his ear, her breath warm against him—which disrupted his focus...
'Why is she laughing? Isn't she supposed to be in pain?'
He stepped back, one step... then another... as he felt something wet spreading across his stomach...
He looked down...
And found that the exact spot where he had stabbed her...
That same wound had appeared on his own body...
He looked at her again—watched her pull the dagger out from the wound, which closed up instantly...
While the searing pain of that same action tore through his own body, sending violent signals into his brain as he coughed out blood...
His body hunched forward as he clutched his stomach, trembling...
Socrates had lost a lot of blood... He was barely standing upright—
When Malena raised her leg and stomped it hard onto Socrates' head, slamming him into the ground as his vision went dark...
"Hahaha... Hahaha..." Malena laughed loudly as she crouched over his unconscious body before spitting on his face...
"Was expecting something more entertaining..."
She grabbed him by the leg and began dragging him toward the direction of the arena, his body leaving a trail across the snow...
He was unconscious—but still alive...
If she wanted, she could kill him right there and then...
But that wouldn't redeem the loss her guild had faced...
'To redeem the reputation of our guild... I've to kill him in the arena ground where everyone is watching... Just to show that the Brownhounds guild is no pushover in the Glacier Dungeon.' She thought as she dragged him steadily, her gaze fixed ahead...
And in the distance...
Kamira stood over the battered body of Brawyn, watching Socrates being dragged away, her expression tight...
'No wonder she's the Vice Guild Leader of the Brownhounds guild... She has such a terrifying ability in her arsenal that even a man like Socrates, who could beat a hundred men, was defeated by her...'
"He's going to be killed... and I'm going to be next... I need to flee this place—but before then, I've to retrieve the Flame Rune Armor from his dead body..." Kamira muttered as she quietly followed Malena, her steps light against the snow...
The Son of Trueblood had been defeated...
And it was by a woman...
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