Untrustable

Chapter 6: Empty Life or Worthy Death

  Jensen's exhales sent small puffs of mist in front of him, winter was cold, but never bitter than the life of Skylar at risk. He jogged and sprinted back, his undershirt wet with sweat. He never rested, day and night he ran and only stopped a few minutes for food and hydration, others are just on the journey. Falkner flew above him, keeping his pace and scout what's ahead of Jensen, never a better companion than it makes itself.

  Jensen made it back to the town in just a day and a half, bags are present beneath his eyes, lack of sleep. Sweat trickled down every edge of his body. Kyle's house was barricaded by Arbiters, all heavily armed, but he made a strange decision, following his instincts that never failed him throughout his life. He walked ahead of all Arbiters. They raised their arsenal, taking aim upon Jensen. "Jensen." He yelled at them. The Arbiters lowered their weapons, and gesture the skillful swords man into the house.

  "I wasn't expecting you so early, Jensen." The commander informed. He was wearing sunglasses. His outfit (or battlesuit) contains gray fabric and Kevlar, orange outlines and patterns decorated the suit which all parts of it linked to a logo of the Arbiters, which is a sign of a planet and arsenals surrounding it, a complex logo indeed.

"Where's Skylar?" Jensen questioned, his eyes burning with cold fury, hints of anger can be found within his voice. "Bring out the girl." He ordered the Arbiter beside him. "Acknowledged." He replied with a nod.

  The Arbiter came out from a room with Skylar in his hands. She was blindfolded, a piece of fabric covering her mouth as to forbid her to speak, ropes sealed her hands from moving. Jensen did not attempt an embrace, only blankly looking at her as she tried to spoke but what escaped from the mouth was muffled voices. Jensen nodded to the commander.

"I would like a bargain." Jensen offered.

"And what is it?" The commander asked. "Seth. I know your name." Jensen replied.

"Continue." The commander informed.

"I will battle your men, or you yourself, if I win the duel, spare Skylar and let us live our own lives." Jensen informed, although he was not confident in his statement but he showed himself worthy.

"Interesting... I accept your offer, but I would like to request you to battle 5 of my men, blade to blade combat, then take on me. Its this way or never." Seth offered. Jensen nodded.

  Jensen appeared topless on the battlefield, a tatoo of a dragon across his right arm, sweat over his torso, glimmering under the sunlight. Jensen only arm himself with his blade. The first Arbiter took on the field, a series of rapid strokes took the opponent down the field, heavily wounded and blood painted the snow red, a few bits of guts are also present in the snowy grounds.

  The second Arbiter attempt to ambush Jensen from behind, however, a quick dodge saved him and a counterattack was performed, opening a deep gash on the Arbiter's back. He still stood firm despite the pouring blood streaming down his spine. Jensen striked quickly, drawing blood as fast as he could to conserve energy for the battle between his most difficult opponent. Seth.

  The three more Arbiters were taken down easily by Jensen, two were dead, the remaining bloodied and bruised, yelling and screaming in agony as their life ebbed away slowly, painfully with every open wound and gash, blood bubbling from them, painting the snow dark red.

"You prove yourself a worthy opponent." Seth exclaimed as he drew his weapon. A fencing blade. His right arm grasping the blade with grace, the pointed tip of the slim steel pierced the wind as he drew it, the other arm was concealed at his back.

"En Garde." He whispered.

  Jensen looked puzzled at first, how could such slim steel withstand a heavy blow by his blade. He examined his piece of steel, blood slowly streaming down from the tip of his blade and dripped to the snowy grounds below after it traveled down the hilt.

  A story of a sword is inked in blood, how much blood have he drew? He guessed. How many wounds have he open? How many lives have he snatched with this blade? He questioned himself. "I hope you wouldn't fail me this time." He murmured and stood to his defensive position.