Junkyard

15/9/2021

A/N: A warning for some scenes with blood and violence.

"I won't go easy on you, now." A teeth-flashing grin split on Hilm's face.

"Oh yeah, bring it on, pops!" I returned, smiling wide with what I hoped is a menacing smile. To become a fighter equal to him, I wanted him to give all his best and worst hits. The training rounds never counted in my books; I had first-hand experience of the maximum output of his strength as he put down a horde of 2-metres tall serpents – an awe-inspiring display of his <Herculean> skill that I have yet felt on myself. With an extreme but unfelt before yearning in me, do I yearn to be those monsters in his eyes in this match.

We stood on opposite ends of a rounded raised platform. The palace of the Ice King loomed from between the black mountains, while the Abovelight streamed right next to them, reflecting off the snow, creating a magical and majestic impression. There were other raised platforms around us, but they were unoccupied.

"Try and make me stay dead for at least 1 minute!" And so with that declaration, our feet left the ground, right fists extended as we closed in to the centre of the ring in a flash.

The wind whooshed in my ears but there were no other distractions as Hilm's eyes pierced my own. Milliseconds before our fists crashed against each other, I swiped away his raised arm and landed a kick to his right side. No way did I want to break my hand in the beginning of this match, even if it were to test my durability.

In return, he grabbed onto my shoulder and charged head-first. I backed up as fast as I could even as he held on with a vice-like grip, then just as my foot landed on the edge of the ring, I bashed my head into his and used the remaining momentum to bodily flip over him. He barely grunted before his arm swept out like a knife going for my neck. My arm came up on instinct to deflect and he forged, putting me in a defensive. I did all I could to use his strength against himself but if I wanted him to be serious, I needed to be switch to the offensive quickly.

My strength did not have any significant improvement over the last few days, certainly not enough to put a dent on Hilm. Yet combined my small size and stealthing skill, I would say I have an agile advantage.

Parry. Block. Block. Parry. He kept up one hit per second, waiting for my move. We weren't going to go anywhere if this keeps up afterall.

I ducked just as his next line of attacks were coming and hailed up into his chin and chest a flurry of punches. He grunted and stepped back but grinned at the next second.

Here it comes!

I managed to swat away one of his arms as they came down to the ground, cracking the earth and causing a big shockwave. I leapt up and just in time, blocked an airkick with my opposite foot. His sword flashed into existence in his hands, raised high above his head. In the blink of an eye, it was cleaving through the air towards my skull.

My daggers manifested in each of my hand in response. They would be useless against his gigantic, 20 pound flesh cleaver, but it helps just to feel slightly safe. His sword sliced off half of my arm and would have taken my shoulder if I hadn't twisted and rolled onto the ground. The rock debris dug into flesh but there was no time to agonise over that as Hilm gave a fierce yell and brought down his sword over and over and I rolled like a fish trying to escape a skewer. My arm regenerated quickly, barely hurting at all, and I released the daggers in a quick whip of my wrist. Hilm avoided them fluidly, but I stole that moment to get back on my feet and call into my hand my secondary weapon.

Surprise flickered on the Hilm's face as his sword nosedived for my chest. He'd never seen or known that I carried a second blade. In fact, I had only received it yesterday. I have yet to test it out but as I pulled it up to block Hilm's next consecutive strikes, the blade felt light and easy.