Stillness of the Cold Blade (1)

Stillness of the Cold Blade

Amongst the ivory walls and marble stones, a large expanse reveals two figures clashing in the darkness, the sparks of light only emitting from each other's blades in a grueling display of agonizing swordplay. The duel continued even with no light. The two masters seemed to be at odds with one another, pitted for this unfortunate clash of blood and steel, death and life. Each individual believing that their cause is just embroidered by their moral reserve to detest the other contender. Only these halls stood witness and testimate of the ongoing struggle and determination of complete elimination of the other. With no interruptions or outside interference, the fates of the cosmos have placed a bitter wager on the bitter outcome of this confrontation.


One individual stood confident and raised like a Great warlord King who had subjugated every method of the sword to bend by his will. He wore white robes like an Emperor and had the Royal insignia on the back of the robes as he continued to fight. This man, having cut down countless of foes before him, knew peace for only a while and detested it. He despised peace only meant being comfortable, which was a breeding ground for laziness. He adored war, and he adored cultivating tactics and strategy. he honored those fallen for those behind them to stand victorious on the heaping piles of bodies before them. He could only smile at the smell of the steel and the ringing of each block of each blow he dished out. He was excited; by a bet of death or life, one cannot help but be instilled in a rush of adrenaline.


"King Joseph, surrender, and you will not lose your head by my sword!"


The one speaking terms was a wandering swordsman from the East. This swordsman was potentially one of the best in the Kingdom, but that remained to be seen for the Grandmaster of the Sciper, The King of Endora. The wandering swordsman was true to his word, with the heads of allies and other nobles fierce with the weapons strung together tied to his belt. He tossed the heads of the defeated nobles; these in particular, were Joseph's closest advisors, generals, and friends. He wore lightweight leather armor and pledged to put the sword King Down as these were just the heads of those close to him. All the other heads, including the heads of the order of the Sciper, were resting on spikes and posts declaring the Sword King's end. The wanderer declared his name Justice, and today was the day that the final sentence on Joseph's life. Not even Joseph's sword skills will save him.


Justice then called out to the Swordking, "I have destroyed your Dynasty. I have plucked your banner off the pages of history. NO MORE!." Justice then charged at the SwordKing, tossing three more heads at him. The sight of these heads made the SwordKing hesitate, blocking one high strike but missing the block on a low blow. It was his wife and two children. Justice had destroyed his Dynasty. This Grandmaster of the blade could not protect them. He couldn't even save himself as the low blow cut the artery in his leg. It was a suicidal attack, the sword King's sword buried in the stomach of Justice; he only smiled as he took a few steps and collapsed to his knees.


"I will not fucking die until I watch you bleed out your Fucking Monster," Justice Yelled at the King. The King, limping from the deep wound, made his way over to the mortally wounded swordmaster. Grabbing the hilt, he retracted his blade as Justice spat blood out of his mouth onto the ground and floor. The King looked down on Justice kneeling and spoke, "Even Justice kneels before me!" He plunged the blade deep into the man's throat. Justice gurgled as his blood dropped to the ground at the newly made wound. With the second mortal blow, it should keep his challenger silent.


The King let out a chuckle; for the first time, he wanted to die in peace. He held his wife's and children's heads in his arms as he ran his fingers through their hair. He sat next to one of the majestic marble pillars he walked down so many times before with his family in his arms, letting out a deep sign. As blood pooled around him, dumping out of the artery in his leg, his hands began to feel numb, the pain slipping away slowly from the wound. He then placed the heads of his family on his lap because he was going to lose strength in his hands soon and did not want to drop his family members on the floor. He wrote in the message next to him in his blood, "Even Justice bent the knee to Joseph's steel." Joseph's hand went limp, and his mind began to get foggy as it traveled the planes of existence no longer bound to his flesh body.


The sword King's blade still logged in Justice's throat awaited still as the cold air filled the halls. The frost gripping the handles shimmering and gleamed red as its last testimate and struck from the SwordKing himself. Now covered in his challenger's blood, awaiting a new master to be wielded by.