Broken Tower Saga: The First Swordsman

Chapter 117: Enraged (2)

"I was looking for another group of nuisances, but found something I have been looking for a while now."

The owner of the voice was none other than the huge man that assaulted them on the very first day of the trial. The same man who had been frozen by Tanya. And this time also he was not alone. A group of men stood around him, bearing their weapons. Their number was just below a dozen, each of them was holding a spear, tall, and broad-shouldered. 

"Who is this guy?" Jacob asked, flashes of flame burning on the arrow he was pulling. His aim was at the huge man.

"You are talking about that Ogre?" Wrik asked jokingly. "It was someone we met a few days ago. Not a friend though." 

"I can guess that," Jacob laughed as well. Men behind him were ready with their weapons as well. If they were counting on numbers, then they have double the group, though they were ill-equipped compared to the opponents.

"Hey Orge, want to have another go?" Wrik asked. 'When did my mind become like Anton?'

"You will pay for your mouth, outlander," Arjamith roared, gesturing at his men. "And today there is no mage to save you."

Arjamith jumped at them with his fellow men. His mouth had the cruel smile that he wanted to skin Wrik alive. He came right at Wrik, bearing the just as tall spear.

"I'll handle the gorilla," Wrik yelled at Jacob, Byul, and Davin. "You guys put down other men." 

Wrik met the spear with his sword. It made a metal clicking sound as the flakes of mana released from the impact. 

"Do you think you can match me when I can see you clearly?" Arjamith roared again. His swing grew faster and heavier.

The last time they exchanged moves, Arjamith was at a disadvantage by the mist from Tanya. It bothers him in sight, as well as other sensory abilities. But he did not know Wrik was not of clear mind at that time either. Wrik was poisoned and had a feverish mind at that time as well. But he was too indifferent to mention it to the gorilla. 

"Oh Yeah?" Wrik gave his opponent a mocking grin as he countered the spear. He recalled the heavy feeling he got at their first meeting the very moment.

With an impulse, he enabled the [Eye of Insights] as his vision grew sharper, and wielding the mana turned effortless. He was at the first level of the ability. It was more efficient than the second level, which he still could not control well.

Wrik's moves turn agiler, with a lot of insight that aims at the blind spot of Arjamith. From blocking the moves, Wrik went on the aggressive role. 

Arjamith still stood like a mountain, blocking the slashes. Even Wrik had to admit he was a tough opponent. No tough was not enough to describe the two and a half metre long figure. He was like an unmovable mountain that would crash anything in its path.

Meanwhile, Jacob shot his arrows at the opponent from a safe spot. The fiery arrows broke the defences of the men, bringing them immobile on the ground. Davin was protecting him with a few men. He did not allow anyone to get close to Jacob, though the other guys were in poor condition. 

Every one of their opponents was highly skilled with spearmanship. Even though most of them lacked mastery in mana, their skills with the spear were worth more than just praise. Each of them was highly skilled in combats, they were not going heedlessly, kept a suitable position among themselves.

Only Jacob's arrows were effective in bringing down those guys quickly, though one arrow was not enough for most of them.

Byul had to use more mana than she needed to do her job. She cast the wind spell, now and then to off guard the opponents to shoot knives at them. She could felt the dispersity in her skills, but that resolved her to work hard even more.

"You are harder than I thought," Arjamith said. His entire focus was on Wrik. "You are only the second outlander in the test that could bring me to use most of my strength."

Arjamith moved with a lot more strength than before. The strength was enough to overwhelm anyone in the test, and that included Wrik as well. Wrik transferred from aggressive to defence again. He dodged most of his opponents' attack, while looking for an opportunity to deal a blow.

Flakes of mana split with each contact of their weapons, like embers, though it was not yellow or gold. Wrik's mana had the tint of the whitish glow into it, while his opponents were pale brown. Each clash they drifted like snow flexes, in the dim light they were more discernable than day.

Unlike his opponent, Wrik was not just focussing on his battle. With his sight, he visioned his companions were doing well, and that gave him reason to finish the battle as soon as possible. 

He could not find any opportunity in his opponent's skills, so he decided to create one. He fainted a slash at the right side of the ribcage of the tall man, but his opponent guessed that.

Arjamith blocked it even before he could faint. With a cruel smile, the tall man brought his leg right into the abdomen of Wrik, attempting to stomp on him.

Wrik twisted his body desperately. He was overconfident in his skills, just a simple faint would not work on this guy. Arjamith's skill at Spear rivalled his physical body. The only where Wrik had the upper hand was the usage of mana, but that was minimal. It was not an overwhelming difference that he would win just by the sheer amount of it.

'Wait, why I am trying so hard to win?!' Wrik was puzzled at the question himself. If he wanted to move away from here, he could very well do that with his group. Why was he fighting with a man taller than anyone he had seen, more skilled than anyone he fought?

He did not ponder long. His eyes shone brighter as he tried to take advantage of the foot Arjamith threw at him. The hammer of a foot kicked his side of his waist, Wrik tried his best not to yelp in pain. 

At that very moment, he attacked the other leg of his opponent. But how could Arjamith let him? His opponent turned for a block when Wrik's sword moved, avoiding the spear to deal a blow to the leg that was unguarded after the assault on his waist.

His sword was able to break the armament, and so did the leg guard. Faint scarlet blood sprayed in the air, but Wrik did not have time to celebrate as the spear came right at his chest.

He tried his best to dodge, but Arjamith moved his spear like it was a part of his body. The spear moved along with his thought, and even with the dodge, Wrik could not avoid it.

A vertical slash hit from below to upwards, breaking his mana defence. He was only able to avoid any harm to his head and neck. 

Wrik dropped on the group, entirely bewildered by what happened. But he did not have the time to run the scene in his head again, because the two and a half metre tall man was coming at him again, bearing his spear.

But before he could move on to Wrik, he had to dodge. A fiery arrow was just about to pierce him, but Arjamith dodged. He looked back to notice the archer, who was still pulling another arrow into the bow. 

"This time I won't miss," Jacob said. The first time was just a warning to not make a move again.

"Just when I was having fun," Arjamith shook his head in annoyance. Most of his men already lost, while a few of them were still standing. He gave a contemptuous look at Jacob again, to the men standing along with him. He clicked his tongue at them to step back. "We will go back now." 

The underlings moved towards him while Arjamith looked at Wrik again. "I'll leave you, for now, Swordsman, but be sure I'll come back to you again. Don't get eliminated by then."

With that word, the tall man left with his group.

Jacob finally sighed in relief. "Are you alright?" he asked, coming before Wrik. 

Wrik nodded. The last move from the spear had broken his mana defence and made a through the vertical mark on his armour. The armour was a waste now. It could not be used again. While his chest was wounded as well, it was not that serious. The night was enough to heal it, but what he was overwhelmed by was his opponent.

It was like he was a spear himself. There was no distinction between him and his weapon.

"Who was that guy?" Davin asked.

Wrik said nothing, standing up. He looked at the men to find they were not in any good condition, either. A few of them were even seriously injured, while they were looking at him with not so enthusiastic. 

Wrik cursed himself. All the hard work he put into convincing these men, and it watered just by a bad performance. But just then his mood turn better, hearing a voice. A familiar voice called his name.

"Wrik."

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