Chapter 279 Strength
This wasn’t because he didn’t trust his friend. It was just that days of practice with the Raven couldn’t match the experience of one who had toiled through blood for years to reach where his position.
Still, he knew that the differentiating factor was the true blood of the Black Raven which had yet to show its worth. This was the only reason why he even considered the possibility that Faxul might win without his help.
Of course, if he did help, he knew that it would be such a scarring incident in his friend’s life that he might completely break the bond which was already strained right now.
Daneel had no intention of doing this if there was no other way. Hence, he had prepared several countermeasures to ensure Faxul’s victory without alerting him of the same.
Just as he was about to choose one on seeing that the Black Raven King’s sword was almost at Faxul’s crumpled body, his eyebrows rose up and his jaw dropped, witnessing an impossible scene that even made the entire stadium goes silent.
Faxul, who was clearly so injured that he shouldn’t even be able to lift a finger, had somehow miraculously grasped his sword and raised it to block Tenebrol’s blow at the last moment. After blocking it, he leaped back with what appeared to be the last of his strength and shakily took a stance on the ground holding his sword forward.
There was a gash on his forehead which had almost taken his life, and the blood seeping from it looked like it had blinded him.
Yet, even from his position, Daneel could see the determination of one who had no intention of going down in this way.
Determination was one thing; but where was the strength coming from?
Even as he wandered along these lines, the fight continued below him, shocking him more and more and making him wonder whether Faxul had somehow secretly broken through to a different level when he wasn’t there.
...
At this moment, even Faxul didn’t know the answer to Daneel’s question.
All he remembered was regret. A regret that had been building up all his life.
The regret that he was too weak to accomplish anything.
Even he had known that he stood very little chance against Tenebrol who had decades of experience. Still, he had had no option but to trust and hope in the true blood that he had found inside himself because he felt that he might lose himself in the well of pain if he didn’t cling onto something.
He, himself, wasn’t lacking in intellect. Although Daneel didn’t say anything, he knew that his friend had probably prepared some or the other plan to make sure that he would win.
His only wish was that these plans wouldn’t have to be put to use, and that he would be able to take his father’s place fair and square.
A few seconds before, when he had been on the ground and felt the breath of death coming closer and closer, this regret had seemed to transform into something solid that embedded itself inside him at the same spot where he usually felt the true blood of the Black Raven.
He didn’t even know how to explain it. The closest thing to this phenomena was that of a heavy rock falling in a calm pool, sending up streams of water.
These "streams" had somehow reached his burning wounds and aching body and given him the minimum amount of energy needed to block that blow and move back.
Even now, those streams had disappeared, and he didn’t know whether they would be back to help him again.
The Black Raven King, who had gotten an expression of both puzzlement and frustration on seeing that his opponent had evaded the blow that was supposed to take his life, rushed forward again with the intention of finishing what he started.
A miracle might happen once, but it surely couldn’t keep repeating.
Of course, this was what he thought, but he was destined to be proven wrong.
TING
Again, at the last moment before Tenebrol’s sword pierced Faxul’s body, he managed to strike it aside as another stream swept through him.
This ’energy’ or whatever it was did not feel foreign. Instead, he felt as if it was something that he had always possessed hidden away to be used in a situation where it was needed.
Each stream caused a change in his body that was imperceptible at first, but became quite obvious after it repeated three, four, five, 10 times.
These streams were making his body stronger.
In fact, the Black Raven King was the first to notice this. Since the moment where his fallen opponent had miraculously gotten up to dodge his sword, each of his parries was getting stronger and stronger even though it was with a slight amount each time.
He had no idea what to think of this, but the obvious connotation that he might lose if this went on long enough dawned on him.
On the other side, Faxul’s confidence which had been crushed before started to slowly return on seeing his opponent start to become slightly flustered.
Although he didn’t know what was helping him, he didn’t care as he knew that it was something from inside him-it was his own.
Engrossing himself in the feeling of being baptized by these streams of golden light, he started to make a counter-attack instead of just being on the defense.
In the process, he kept sustaining more injuries, but they now seem to hurt less.
Hence, ignoring them completely, he swung his sword with the vigor of one who wasn’t afraid of death.
SLASH
Tenebrol sustained his first injury three minutes after that turning point.
By this moment, it was almost like he was facing a different opponent than the one who had walked through those doors to fight him in the stadium.
Slowly, it started to become clear that this was definitely some sort of outside intervention like what the old man would have cast for him if he wasn’t away.
Of course, he had no time to think further. The injuries served to increase his bloodlust, making him become similarly reckless as he tried to injure his opponent in any way possible while ignoring all the pain he felt from his body.
The watching crowd couldn’t even bring themselves to cheer. What they saw were two men hellbent on winning, so much so that it looked like they didn’t mind dying in the process.
As the seconds ticked on, the injuries on both of their bodies kept accumulating more and more until everyone started to wonder just how they were even moving.
It was at least different for Faxul, whose pain senses seem to be numbed. For Tenebrol, it was like he was back on those battlefields where he had almost lost his life multiple times.
"HAHAHAHAHA!"
This made him laugh maniacally as he reveled in the feeling and imagined that he was back in that time. Everything else faded away, leaving behind the pure joy that came from fighting without holding back anything.
Faxul, on the other hand, was like an ice-cold machine. He kept growing stronger and kept advancing, only feeling content that his enemy was growing weaker as time passed on.
Indeed, after two more minutes passed, the advantage was completely with Faxul.
The crowd who noticed this finally started cheering again although they still worried whether the man they supported would live after this match.
The crazy laugh of Tenebrol which had resounded through the stadium till now was finally drowned out by these cheers, but he laughed nonetheless as he only felt truly happy at the moment.
This was all he had truly wanted, all his life. This feeling of dancing on the edge of life and death. This feeling of having no regrets after putting his all in a fight.
Finally obtaining it, he felt happier than he had in decades.
He didn’t care that he was losing. He didn’t care that he was getting close to death with each slash. He didn’t care about anything.
He had what he loved, and even if everything ended at this moment, he would die happy.
Finally, one strike of Faxul’s managed to go deeper than all the others which had caused surface wounds till now.
It was at his thigh, making him lose his balance and fall on the ground back first.
As he stared at the sky, he gave up the notion of getting up because he knew very well that he was done.
He had thought that he might have felt regret as his enemy had used unfair means, but the happiness of having one last real fight dominated him right now.
This isn’t a bad way to go after all, he thought, clutching the sword in his hand tighter and letting the smile spread across his face.
As his contender pointed his sword at his throat, he only let out two words and closed his eyes.
"Kill me."