"Boundless is a berserk skill that increases my power tenfold. But the flaw is that it makes me irrational, and there is no way to fix it," he said as he summoned a tuxedo with a white shirt. The previous torn attire decayed as it turned to dust.
"Thanks to you, the skill deactivated."
"I can't use Limitless Assault. F**k. I need to show a strong facade to scare him," Conner thought.
"But first, time to take care of the trash," he said as he rushed over to the queen, who was 'dead,' and stabbed it in the head.
"Screech."
It gave a loud final screech, which threw Conner off balance as he hit the walls before the cave turned silent.
"Human. I have injured him once more. Ensure that you defeat him fully. I will die in a minute or two, so I can't fight," it sent a mental message to Reever.
Conner stumbled back, blood streaked across his side where the wall had met him, his breath ragged. He gripped his twin blades tighter, feeling the sting in his arms and ribs with every movement. Across the cave, Reever stood silently, the golden trident catching the faint light from the cracks in the stone ceiling. His gun hung loosely at his side, almost forgotten, as if it were the trident alone that mattered.
'Bot 067,' Conner whispered, rolling the words off his tongue like a curse, into the stale air. He lunged forward, trying to close the distance, his blades slicing through shadows, searching for a chink in Reever's posture. The trident moved like liquid gold, deflecting the attacks with a skill that made every block and parry seem effortless. Each clash rang against the cave walls, the echo making the fight feel endless.
'Camouflage.'
Reever vanished suddenly, the edges of his figure blurring into the rocky backdrop. Conner's eyes darted around, scanning frantically.
"F**king hell ," he cursed under his breath, panic rising. The skill Reever had, Camouflage, made him part of the cave itself. A flicker of movement by the stalactites, a glint along the floor. Conner swung blindly, blades catching only air, his body straining under the weight of exhaustion and injury.
Reever reappeared with a grunt, the trident sweeping low toward Conner's legs. He jumped, blades slicing the air inches from his ankles. He rolled, pain shooting through his hip, and came up swinging, forcing Reever back a step. The golden trident scraped along the stone floor, sparks flying. Conner's breath came in harsh gasps. His side ached, his arms screamed, but he would not stop.
The fight continued like this, a dance of strikes and feints. Conner slashed from the left, then right, trying to force Reever to reveal himself. Reever stayed hidden until a perfect opening, then struck, the trident sweeping in a wide arc. Conner barely deflected, the impact jarring his shoulder. He stumbled backward, eyes scanning, muscles trembling, his mind racing for a strategy.
Reever's game now was that of a coward. But what could he do, especially when facing such a monster?
Conner lunged again, faster this time, using his blades in a tight, spinning assault. Each strike aimed to keep Reever from vanishing completely. For a moment, he saw a shimmer, the faint outline of Reever's form against the cave wall.
"Bot 067," he hissed, and swung both blades together. Reever ducked just in time, the tips of the blades grazing his armor, leaving shallow scratches that failed to heal.
Reever cursed under his breath, the first sound of frustration Conner had heard from him all night. That small moment of emotion gave Conner the drive to push harder. Pain was everywhere, burning in his lungs and bloodied ribs, but adrenaline carried him. He attacked with a rhythm born of desperation. Strike, block, sweep, roll, repeat. The trident met the blades over and over, each collision vibrating through both of them, sparks of metal on metal lighting the cave in brief flashes.
Reever tried to disappear again, blending with the shadows near the far wall, but Conner had adapted. He jabbed forward blindly, following the memory of movement, and caught Reever's arm. The golden trident swung sideways in a heavy arc, knocking Conner off balance. He hit the floor hard, blades clattering across the stone. Reever pressed the advantage, thrusting the trident toward Conner's chest. Conner rolled to the side just in time, feeling the wind of the strike brush against him.
Panting, bleeding, each breath a sharp stab, Conner scrambled to his feet.
"Bot 067, face me like a man," he growled, voice rough. His blades were slick with blood and sweat, hands shaking, but he met Reever's eyes without flinching. Reever's camouflage flickered, almost failing as he prepared another strike. The tension was unbearable. The air was thick with dust, sweat, and iron.
They clashed again, slower this time, deliberate. Each knew the other's strength, testing, probing for weakness. Conner feinted left, then swung right, his blade nicking Reever's trident. Reever staggered slightly, caught off guard, and Conner pressed forward. Pain lanced through his side with every movement, but he forced himself to keep going, muscles screaming against the limits.
Reever finally lunged, trying to pin Conner against the cave wall, but Conner twisted, blades flashing, and caught Reever off guard with a low, sweeping strike. Sparks flew as metal met gold. Both men froze, chest heaving, eyes locked, knowing neither had a clear edge. Silence hung for a heartbeat, then another strike shattered it—the fight continuing, brutal and unyielding, a battle of skill, endurance, and sheer will.