Deus Necros

This time, there was no pause between her first and fifth strike.

The twig blurred. One. Two. Four. Eight. Thirteen, arcing and weaving with the soundless precision of a falling star. Each angle was different. Each tempo fractured. She was testing not his strength, but his capacity to learn.

And Ludwig answered, not with mastery, but with effort.

Each blow he deflected was sloppy, yet faster. Stronger. He tracked her position with his whole body, not just his eyes. Oathcarver rang now and again with glancing contact, not perfect parries, but interference. The blade didn’t hold, only delayed.

“To anyone else watching, you look pathetic,” the Knight King said. “But I see it. You’re listening.”

Ludwig didn’t respond. His mind burned with every shift, every twitch of her shoulders. The ache in his knees deepened. His breathing, pointless though it was, matched the rhythm of her movement now, timing her tempo with his own useless lungs.

And then,

“Tsk,” Titania clicked her tongue. “This is an abnormal level of improvement…”

But she didn’t speed up. She didn’t change the tempo.

She wanted to see how far he’d get before she did.

“Block that one. Let the low swing land. Counter with a downward arc. Follow through. Don’t pause.”

The Knight King’s voice came again, clipped and cold, yet oddly reassuring. Ludwig obeyed. Not perfectly. Not even well. But he followed. His body adjusted by degrees, every joint learning the tempo of survival.

Titania stepped back, not from fatigue, but because she wanted to. A test concluded. Her smile had faded now, but her eyes gleamed like someone watching a clever animal solve a puzzle it shouldn’t be able to.

“You’re starting to see it,” she said, and raised her twig again.

“No,” the Knight King whispered. “You’re not seeing shit. She’s letting you see. That difference will get you killed. Do not be proud and arrogant listening to the compliments of your opponent.”

Ludwig nodded once, and kept his blade high.

Titania came again. Another flurry. No windup. No grace this time, only intent. The twig jabbed with surgical precision, feinting low, then turning mid-swing into a twisting strike aimed for his ribs.

He stepped inward, not back.

The move brought him just close enough to narrow the distance, where Oathcarver’s long blade couldn’t help but drag uselessly behind. But he wasn’t swinging anymore. Not yet. His posture held firm.

Titania blinked.

A flicker of something passed over her face.

Approval?

Amusement?

She moved to punish him, wrist cocking for a strike.

“That’s a feint, punish it!” the Knight King said.

Ludwig then suddenly halted the swing mid-motion, however the attack that was supposed to be fake changed instantly, the twig continued its cut path, and instead smacked him straight on the forehead.

[ -1 HP ]

“Ouch…” Ludwig muttered, blinking.

“Why didn’t you block that?” Titania asked, not mocking, curious.

“Felt like a feint…” he answered.

“It indeed was.”

“Then why did it hit me?”

“Because a good swordsman can make a feint into a real strike when they sense weakness in posture,” she said.

“She means you relaxed your shoulders too early,” the Knight King muttered dryly. “Don’t let up until you hear bones break or the sword clatter.”

Before Ludwig could reply, she was already moving.

No aura this time. No glowing edge or humming branch. Just footwork, clean and purposeful. Her hand behind her back again, the twig moving like an afterthought, fluid, quick, impossible to trace.

“You remind me of someone,” she said as she struck.

Ludwig blocked low, bracing the hit, feeling his bones hum from the effort.

“Someone I fought long ago. Brute strength. Heavy arms. Heavy head, too.” Another blow. “She didn’t know what to do with her speed. Just kept crashing forward.” A third. “You’re the opposite.”

The twig slammed against his temple.

[ -1 HP ]

“You’re slow as a tortoise,” she said. “But your strength, there’s purpose in it. Focus.”

Ludwig stumbled to one knee. The flurry of attacks were too fast for him, but he still trudged along rising back to intercept and walked back, blocking, if it was even called that as he waited for a chance to strike back.

“Your sword,” she continued, “It’s not made to cut. It’s made to ruin. Remember that. Though for a frail looking young man, you have an absurd muscular strength. The heavy sword fits you, it’s just that you don’t know what to do with it most of the time.”

The ground beneath Ludwig seemed heavier now. Not just from weight, but from the presence of the others watching. He could feel them at the edges of the clearing, Gorak’s fingers twitching on the haft of his weapon, Timur’s glare, Melisande’s deep concern, even Robin’s near-silent breath catching.

Celine was the most silent of them all, but her aura stirred. Crimson flickered near her brow. Watching. Assessing.

Ludwig inhaled once, steady and slow, and tightened his grip more on his handle.

“Good, only a fool would relax their grip on their weapon in front of a master,” The Knight King said.

Stillness lingered for only a moment. Titania moved in a flicker, her twig a blur, two strikes, then a third. And Ludwig blocked all three.

He didn’t counter. He didn’t strike back. He simply held.

The forest wind whispered against their blades.

Titania let the last swing fall to the side, stepping back with a nod. “Better.”

Then.

A final swipe. Light. Almost playful. It knocked Oathcarver from his grip entirely. The massive blade flew back with a dull clang, thudding into the dirt like a felled tree. Titania stopped just a breath away, the twig vibrating faintly with energy still radiating from its aura.

Ludwig stood still. Unmoving. Weaponless.

The birds were silent now. Even the wind seemed to hush.

“Unfortunatly though, no matter how tight you grip at your weapon, what you’re facing will always be a master…” The Knight King added.

“You lasted longer than I expected,” she said at last, voice low, without cruelty.

“Who said I was done?” Ludwig replied. His tone even. His breathing calm. There was no tremble in his voice, just the faint edge of fire.

“What do you mean? You’re weaponless.”

His left hand moved.

Durandal, quiet as a breath, shimmered into form, less imposing than Oathcarver, but far faster. It hummed in his grip, eager.

Titania tilted her head slightly. “Another sword won’t make much of a difference.”

“That’s true,” Ludwig admitted, and raised his right hand.

A glow sparked.

Heat bled into the air, crackling between his fingers. Fire roared to life, a great fireball spinning into being, its orange core pulsing like a heart with every second.

“But what about this?” he asked.

Titania’s eyes widened, just slightly.

Then she smiled.

“Hoo… now that’s interesting…”

Ludwig pushed himself back, flying almost as he created distance.

“Good, never fight in close quarter when you have the advantage of range,” she said as she approached, her speed was almost a perfect match to Ludwig’s as she chased after him.

Ludwig hurled the fireball at her, and the woman simply swiped at it with her branch, the whole structure of the fireball was destroyed in the process, torn to two perfect half circles then exploded in the process behind her.

“But this isn’t enough, magic and swordsmanship are two different paths, many tried to trudge them both only to find mediocrity. Are you also following that path?” she asked, a question that needed no answer.

Ludwig stomped his foot, and a massive pillar of stone rose up right under Titania, however the latter simply stomped on the pillar shattering it in the process.

“Multi element, not bad…” she praised without praise.

Just then she took a step forward and struck down with her branch, to meet Ludwig’s incoming sword.

For a moment however, just a brief moment, the branch on her hand bent, making her eyes widen and her aura around her weapon sharpen and strengthen.

For the first time since they fought, Ludwig’s weapon didn’t simply stop in place, it bounced back and there was a spark from the contact.

“What is that blade?” Titania asked.

Ludwig didn’t reply, Durandal wasn’t as simple as Oathcarver, true Oathcarver belonged to the Knight King, the elven Emperor who ruled with steel and fire, and killed countless beasts.

But Durandal was a weapon forged from the heart of a dead star, composed of the densest matter in the universe. A black Hole.

Durandal wasn’t something that a twig can repel, even in its current shard form, a fragment of its former glory.

“But, that isn’t enough for you to win,” she said.

“I know,” Ludwig said, “But it won’t hurt to try you see… I don’t like giving up too early,” Ludwig replied.

“Fine,” she said, appearing suddenly in front of Ludwig. With her left hand, she seized his sword-wielding arm and forced it toward his free hand, which she also caught. Both restrained effortlessly with just one hand, while her twig-wielding hand remained free.

“Now you lose.” She said.

From Ludwig’s wrist, his soul chains rushed out, and wrapped around Titania’s other arm, locking it in place.

“Oh… that, I didn’t expect, but it won’t take a genius to realize that this isn’t a stalemate.”

“Why not? I can headbutt you right now,” Ludwig said.

“Try it, your skull would fracture in half, and I can easily overpower you.” She said.

“True, that is true, however, I learned something during my travels,” Ludwig said.

“And what is that?” Titania asked.

“That a mage can use any part of his body to case,” he said as he opened his mouth, pointing his tongue forward. And from the tip of his tongue, mana gathered like a torrent into a raging fireball and blew up right into Titania’s face.