Untrustable

Chapter 7: The Wolf Among Sheep

  Seth danced through the battlefield gracefully, steel flashed and blinked endlessly, cutting through the howling winds. Jensen only parried and dodged, his opponent too skillful for him to attempt an attack, tiring the enemy wasn't useful as well, the light weapon of Seth can keep him on the battlefield for a long time, while Jensen's heavier blade, well, he doesn't stand a chance.

  Jensen continued defending, his muscles giving in, legs trembling, for the first time in his life his steadiness give in, energy draining and panic rose within his once confident heart.

  The steel clashed frequently, sending noises of somewhat metal striking glass, the fencing blade strikes with such elegance, like fighting with two metal spoons instead.

  Jensen continued fighting, even though his muscles were screaming for relief, two wounds had been opened on his body, one on his right forearm and another lash on his chest.

  Half an hour had passed and the battlefield remained unbloodied by any of the fighter's blood. Jensen's focus was interrupted, tiredness overcame him after the over use of his body, his dodges and parries no longer confident, his strikes and counter attacks no longer precise and accurate.

  Power drained, Jensen was forced to the corners of the battlefield, although he knew that defeat was a blink away, despite his consciousness are almost at their knees, even though his hopes are at the brink of perishing, Jensen still fought recklessly against Seth.

  A flash of steel drew blood once again, streaming from his left arm, and another quick stroke took a small piece of flesh from his stomach.

  Until his energy fully gave in and pouring blood completely weakened his strength, his last vision was Seth's smirk and the tip of his fencing blade pointing at his throat.

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2101, 3 years later.

  "Assemble!" Seth yelled. The Arbiters lined up accordingly to their respective places, which identification among themselves appeared easier. Drake was in his Arbiter suit, the same detail on it since 5 years ago, he never liked the logo though. Drake's breathing was steady in his oxygen mask which filters radioactive from some of the terrains present on earth. After all, World War 3 was clearly fought with nuclear power, radioactivity was permanently scattered across the surface of the planet, only few areas remain uninfected.

  Drake replaced Seth and lead the Assemble. "Morning, younglings." He slowly greeted. Drake glanced at the team as he counted the new members of it. "Only ten..." He murmured to himself. Drake put his hands at his back, circling the team as he examined every single member, he nodded while noticing that every newcomer was fit and strong.

"Leave it to me, Seth." Drake informed.

"Be sure to train them well." Seth ordered.

"That is definite, sir." Drake answered with a nod.

"Good. Now begin." Seth ordered as he paced out the training field.

  "Alright, newcomers, pick your broadswords, we begin with a few swings and simple melee training. Beware my strictness, this is not a picnic." Drake made his statement.

  The Arbiters ran to the barracks and picked their weapons, though all are similar, the effectiveness of each are not the same. Half a minute they took to select the weapons and return to their spots.

 

  "You guys need to be fast, newcomers. In order to be quick enough to save yourself from that Jensen you guys knew. Although he's jailed." Drake scolded

  An Arbiter smirked underneath his mask.

  "You there, what's so funny?" Drake questioned.

  "Nothing, sir. I'm used to smirking." He replied. Some of the Arbiters laughed upon his statement.

  "State your name." Drake ordered.

  "Max Lazeem." The Arbiter answered. Drake nodded as he continued his training.

  "Now stab." Drake commanded. All the Arbiters performed the move against their own invisible enemies. He noticed that the funny Arbiter wasn't doing well enough. Drake walked towards him and corrected his mistakes in a not so polite way.

  "Max. When I say stab, I do not mean point, or wave. Its stab-" Drake felt a sharp pain on his chest as the words escaped from his mouth. "Precisely sir, stab." The Arbiter informed as Drake's cries of pain ended up in a muted shout.

  Blood pour onto the solid floor as his lifeless body collapse onto his own crimson liquid, eyes wide open and mildly bloodshot as blood continue to dominate the area. An Arbiter attempted to strike the killer but a graceful dodge, almost perfect, and a deliver of a counter strike ended the life of the Arbiter.

  Seth stormed into the training fields, alarmed by the kill.

  "Drake!" He yelled but he knew that the heartbeat of the trainer had stopped.

  "Why is there only nine of you?!" Seth exclaimed, including the dead Arbiter in it. The other Arbiters remained silent, shocked to see two quick flashes of silver steel snatch the lives of two individuals, with precision and grace, accuracy and skill, only someone Seth met before can show such promising skill within battle.

  Seth almost immediately and correctly guessed the name of the killer.

  "Jensen..." He murmured.