Rayne, a girl born into tragedy, is haunted by a traumatic past, burdened by the memories of killing her father and witnessing her mother's death. Bullied and isolated, she often struggles with self-doubt, thinking that she's better off dead than al...
The unearthly silence was shattered by loud splashes in the creek. Squelches sounded. Followed by thunderous tremors as metal boots struck against rocks. I peeked behind me. A horde of savages clad to the teeth in weaponry was wading across the river, hot on my heels. Swords, axes, spears, maces-you name it, they have it. Layers of brown rust encrusted the discoloured armour. But it certainly did nothing to hinder their movements.
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Even from here, I could feel intense bloodlust pricking the back of my neck. Which, to be fair, was understandable after I had rudely crashed their weird-ass ritual and foiled their plans. What can I say? I'm a natural party pooper.
Once those mobs were lured a good distance away from their main troops, my footsteps screeched to a halt. Likewise, the noisy stampede ceased as Hollow Knights surrounded me in the blink of an eye, weapons poised and ready. I withdrew my own blades-a kama and kunai combo. Seconds later, one of them surged forward. Both hands clasped the handle as he raised the greatsword over his head, moments before the blade chopped down. Winds whistled. My bangs fluttered from the billowing airflow. Nice showcase of brute strength, but it's ridden with countless openings. Slow and clunky. Sloppy while being needlessly flashy. All hot air, no substance.
I can pummel him!
The razor-sharp edge easily cleaved through the air, heading straight for my upper body. Pupils shrunk. I nimbly sidestepped before lunging in for a quick thrust at his blatantly exposed waist.
THUNK!
A dull metallic clank reverberated. But there were no signs of flesh tearing or steel being shredded like paper. I had used all my strength. That one blow was supposed to be fatal enough to pierce any ordinary armour. But reality loved squeezing lemons into my eyes since my kunai barely left a dent. Maybe just a microscopic nick???
Why so bloody hard???
"Shit!" I cussed while bending backwards in time to avoid a backhand.
The gauntlet hurtled like a battering ram. If I wasn't quick enough, my face would've been smashed in.
I swiftly regained momentum to go in for a flurry of slashes. The after-images of my karma was a blur as I swung it like a madman. Sparks flew. Heavy thuds of metal being repeatedly bashed echoed. But that stubborn buffoon just wouldn't fall. Honestly, this guy isn't that strong. It's just his armour-it's so fucking thick that my blade isn't going through at all!
Meanwhile, the Hollow Knight wasn't the least bit fazed by the onslaught of attacks. In the same manner as before, the thickheaded imbecile lifted his sword in an attempt to hack me once again.
Swoosh.
I leaped out of the way as the long blade crunched through stones. It left a freaking crater in the riverbed. My teeth gnashed in faint displeasure. For god's sake-Hollow Knights aren't even high-grade magic beasts! Compared to other monsters, their movements were sluggish and clumsy-in short, bland as all hell. The only thing remotely impressive about these lacklustre muppets was their defence. That's it. Nothing else. Which makes the current situation all the more infuriating.
