"Nyaa…Nyaa…"
"Haah…Haah…"
Two individuals—a caracal nyaight and a human, stood a distance away from each other, the former breathing a little heavier than the latter.
They've engaged in a deadly sword dance for the entire previous minute, showcasing their prowess in swordsmanship.
Sir Purrcival was as aggressive as fire, bursting into a scorching blaze one moment before retreating in the next, preparing for the next explosive aggression.
The Nyaight of the Flipped Cardboard Box certainly held true to his promise this time, risking his limbs and even his head for a shot at victory.
On the other hand, Daru was like water, flowing and adaptable, masterfully receiving everything Sir Purrcival threw at him with a faint smile on his face.
Daru glanced at his HP bar:
==
Omaru
HP: 128 / 300
==
Then at his opponent's:
==
[(Elite) Sir Purrcival Lv.9]
HP: 47 / 390
==
This was the result of the caracal nyaight risking everything for a shot at victory.
Sir Purrcival willingly threw himself into danger to counterattack effectively, but unfortunately, Daru proved too skillful.
Nonetheless, the nyaight's determination bore fruit. He was able to land a few minor and moderate slashes at his poorly equipped opponent.
Both of them now had the [Bleeding] status and were losing 2 HP every three seconds.
However, Sir Purrcival knew he couldn't allow the situation to continue, as he would bleed out first.
He had to risk it all in an all-or-nothing move and eliminate the Cluckson Commander with one swift and decisive strike.
Alas, his opponent was too adept at defense.
He had to somehow lure the guy to…
Before Sir Purrcival could finish his thoughts, Daru's voice sounded across him:
"Nyaight. You know I've already won, but to win in such a boring manner could hardly be considered a victory. I'll give you a chance. How about we settle this in a final exchange?"
The caracal nyaight froze for half a second, then chuckled.
"Nyaha…Nyahaha! You're indeed a hell of a warrior, Cluckson Commander! I acknowledge the boring defeat route. But since you've given me a path, I shall take it without hesitation. En garde!"
In the next moment, Sir Percival lunged at his opponent, setting up his final attack.
*CLANG!*
The scimitar and the slightly rusty tachi clashed, and Daru's eyes narrowed.
The nyaight then used his powerful legs, bunny-kicking at Daru's tachi and sending him skidding back a few meters.
Sir Purrcival smoothly used the momentum and transitioned into a backflip, landing perfectly on his feet before exploding into a blur, feline arms extended forward in a thrusting motion.
"Die, Cluckson Commander!" he snarled.
To the caracal nyaight's disbelief, the enemy had disappeared.
Only when Daru spoke and Purrcival heard his voice from above did the elite swordspawn understand a part of what happened.
"You've fought well, Sir Purrcival. I'll remember your name."
Half a second ago, Daru jumped, barrel-rolling twice before slashing downward.
His tachi then, in perfect timing, slashed through Purrcival's passing neck, leaving him bleeding red cubic particles in horrifying volumes as a red value floated above the elite spawn's head in glaring bold text.
It was a magnificent vital hit.
[- 230!]
It wasn't as clean a cut as it appeared on the surface, but it definitely struck a vital point, slashing quite deeply on the caracal nyaight's nape.
Sir Purrcival skidded to a halt and froze in a forward stance with his scimitar still extended in a thrust.
"Nya…ha…well done, Cluckson Commander. I accept this glorious defeat!" the nyaight declared before dissipating into red cubic particles in a final blaze of honor.
"S-Sir Purcival!!" meowed the Royal Nyaights in despair and disbelief.
[You have slain an (Elite) [Dungeon] Swordspawn [2] levels higher than you! Calculating experience point rewards…]
[You've obtained 2,000 Experience Points!]
Daru then extended his left hand at the ground, pushing off and tumbling once to land gracefully on his feet.
"CLUCK!! The commander has defeated Sir Purrcival! Slaughter his subordinates!" clucked one of the Cluckson Warriors in celebration.
Of course, a commander's death would almost always lead to the morale of his underlings plummeting, and because of this, the Cluckson Army was able to defeat their opponents, surviving the encounter against the higher-leveled enemies.
But they were not unscathed.
Only eight remained—all bleeding heavily.
It didn't seem like they would be of any more use, though, as warrior chickens suddenly turned around and guarded the bridge, refusing to move forward:
"Commander, we shall hold the enemies off, go and accomplish what you must!"
Daru's brows rose in astonishment, observing his now-stationary army for a while before turning to look at the Catmelot Castle.
He shrugged in a carefree manner.
It was fun fighting alongside his underlings in this realistic story made by the gods, but he knew that, in the end, his Cluckson Warriors weren't real.
Heck, he wasn't even sure if the "him" in the Myriad Sword Realm was real.
But why should he think too much when he's only here to enjoy the "colors" he had long been searching for?
Sir Lancelynx, the rebel leader, the so-called corrupted king…
He had lots of exciting enemies to deal with; why would he stop here?
Lips curving into a faint smile, he advanced to the Catmelot Castle.