Emperor's Palace, Tokyo, Empire of Japan, May 20, 1870.
As the heavy droplet of rain falling and lightning continuously strikes at the dark thick cloudy sky, tatami's doors quickly thrown into the pebble covered floors of the garden along with Agnarr, a shallow cut on his forehead which caused for blood to flown down from the cut to his chin. The castle guards only stayed in their places and forced to watch the scene unfold in their eyes as they did not want get involve into what was currently happening between him and Michiro.
Not bothering himself with the droplets of the rain that soaked his head, hair, face, clothes wet, the king slightly grunt his teeth out of pain and mustered up every courage and strength he had, darting his gaze to Michiro who went out of the room through the doorway as he slowly walking towards him while carrying his unsheathed katana in a red saya with beautiful white rose and thorn painting, his sharp red ruby eyes looking straught at him and his feature filled with overwhelming grudge, pain, and lust for blood painted on his feature, making him pant heavily with his heart racing violently on his chest out of extreme fear he felt at the moment, making him held himself from being totally driven on it with everything he could.
"You are too stupid Agnarr. Are you really serious on asking me for a duel? If you are thinking that I will gonna spare your life just because you are a king then you are completely wrong...." Stopping not far away from Agnarr without taking his deadly piercing gaze from him, Michiro brought his hand into the handle of his katana and grip it tightly, making himself prepared of pulling it out before he opened his mouth to speak, not bothering himself with the droplets of water falling from the sky which left his face, hair, clothes, hands wet.
".... Life may choose whom it want to bless and curse yet unfortunately for you, death choose no one and he is now in the front of you." Michiro uttered in cold monstrous manner without taking his eyes off from Agnarr.
"... As a father... There is nothing I won't gonna do for the sake of my daugthers... Elsa needed you... Not just because I want to help her in knowing who you are only but also I firmly believe that you are one of the people I could ask for help in order for her to fully control her powers... If this duel is the only way for me to convince you to help me... To help her... Then so be it." Agnarr uttered in low serious voice as he slowly stood up properly on his place and held his rapier, pulling it out from its sheath and pointed it towards Michiro.
"We both knew the reason why you are the person I'm asking for help.... And it is also the main roots of your reason of your hatred for Arendelle, a hatred which you carried long way before of everything that happened during the revolution... A hatred stream from an unwanted connection... Am I right?" Agnarr uttered in gentle firm manner, making Michiro sharpened his gaze and huff mockingly in annoyance, veins showed up in his feature out of burning rage inside of him.
"You talk a lot for a king, Agnarr. If you are thinking that talking to me in this way would convince me to help your daugther, then you get mistaken because I don't give a fuck about her...." Gripping his katana tightly with the aura he was emitting turned into heavy suffocating one which caused for Agnarr to fekt chills running down on his spine and made his whole body trembled in overwhelming pressure and fear, Michiro continue to speak.
"... But don't worry, if she fully lose control of her own powers and kill anyone whether intentionally or accidentally, I will murder her by myself." Michiro uttered in cold murderous manner with no hint of remorse or hesitation painted on his face. Horrified with the words that the raven haired man had said, Agnarr mustered up every courage and strength he had, knowing that he was facing a foe that was totally in different level than him as he was totally eager to win the duel between the two of them for the sake of his eldest daugther, Elsa.
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The Lord of Death and The Queen of Ice
أدب الهواةLong before the ages passed, there was a tale spreading around about a legendary cold blooded immortal manslayer who was called 'The Lord of Death' who was rumored to live a hundred of years and claimed a hundred of thousands of lives with his own s...
