Zelink BotW Sequel/ Legend of Zelda and the Last knight- Swords and Roses

Why we failed pt. 14

Chapter

Why we failed pt. 14

Broken

As the Dragoon's great sword cleaved through the air, Link nimbly evaded, the blade slicing nothing but the damp evening mist. With the agility borne of desperate necessity, Link countered deftly, his poleaxe's spearpoint feinting a thrust to provoke the brute into a reckless response. True to Link's strategy, the Dragoon lunged for a brutal counterstrike.

Seizing the moment with a dancer's grace, Link pivoted, redirecting his weapon's hefty backend in a powerful arc aimed not at the man's armored chest but his half-shielded face. Yet, the Dragoon recoiled in time, the poleaxe merely grazing his helm—a mere irritant rather than the incapacitating blow Link had hoped to deliver. Though Link harbored no desire to maim, he knew a solid blow to the head might expedite a quick surrender.

"Not that easy kid!" the Dragoon barked defiantly.

"I never said it would be easy winning," Link shot back, his weapon poised and ready.

"Fool, you won't be winning at all!" With these words, the Dragoon surged forward, a torrent of disguised steel unleashed in slashing fury. Link found himself pressed, each dodge transitioning into desperate parries as golden sparks sprayed where the deceptive steel met the heft of his poleaxe. Though resilient thanks to its weight, bronze began to give way and shards of his breaking weapon scattered, twinkling like dire stars around them.

Driven into a strategic corner, Link's situation grew dire—until the arena itself seemed to respond to the climax of their battle. With a mechanical groan, the pillars and battlements that had risen like specters of war now sank back into the earth, leaving the fighters enclosed in a circle of ominous orange light. What now? Link thought.

The Dragoon's grin was malevolent in the glow. "Hope you're ready. There's no way out now."

Link, his expression one of grim resolve, clutched his beleaguered poleaxe. Despite the obscured vision from his dented helm, he couldn't risk revealing his true identity, not yet. He understood what this moment demanded. It was time to conclude this duel, decisively. How to achieve that, under these constraints, was the only question left unanswered.

The arena was a crucible of fierce anticipation, the air thick with the scent of scorched earth and the tang of sweat and fear as the Sheikah pyrotechnics framed the duelists in a circle of blazing light. Link, disguised as Helmsworth, faced his daunting adversary, the Dragoon, whose great sword glared with a malicious promise under the flickering flames.

The crowd's roar, a maelstrom of cheers and boos, seemed to fade into a background murmur as the two warriors circled each other. Link's grip tightened around the haft of his poleaxe, the metal cold and unyielding beneath his palms. His breaths came in visible puffs in the chill air, each one tasting of the crisp, impending rain that threatened above.

"You can do it, Sir! Get him!" Jun shouted from the sidelines, his voice cracking under the weight of his concern. He stood on his tiptoes, trying to get a better view over the throng of spectators.

The Dragoon seized on Link's momentary distraction and lunged suddenly, his great sword slashing down in a vicious slash. Link narrowly sidestepped, the tip of the blade grazing his armor. Utilizing the momentum, Link twirled his poleaxe expertly, the backend of the weapon sweeping towards the Dragoon's legs in an attempt to unbalance him. The soldier leaped back just in time, his sneer visible beneath his visor. It was then Link caught an iron fist to the face. The Dragoon's true intended target. The swipe of the sword was merely just a lure. Luckily, his helm endured most the blow, but it was enough to rattle his jaw and bloody his lip.