The Laughing Swordsman

Apollo's eyes slowly opened. He looked at Rhys and Rhea, who were attempting to kill him with their glares alone.

He laughed with an uncanny undertone.

"There was something I've learned..."

There was a time where Apollo didn't have confidence in anything he did. It was a time where he refused to try anything new. A time where he never put any effort into anything, not even himself.

Apollo decided his time was better spent pestering the people around him. He couldn't even remember for how long he lived like that, in pointlessness.

Apollo's eyes widened.

"Through all the misery..."

But then... he was assassinated.

When Apollo made the decision to pick up his bokken, he made it with conviction. For the first time in years, he felt determined to do something. It wasn't because someone told him to, or because he enjoyed it.

Apollo's pupils shook.

"That I didn't need to listen to anyone else..."

Sure, dying was painful. But he was fighting against a trained assassin with very real knives while holding a wooden sword. Far too many would've given up.

Even if they had encouragement from everyone around them.

Apollo's lips tore from his smile.

"Because there was only one person I needed to listen to..."

Yet... Apollo didn't. He didn't have any encouragement. Instead, there was a voice in the back of his head berating him.

That he was worthless.

That he couldn't do anything.

That he was better off killing himself.

Those were his thoughts as the voice that took over him. It was when he just stood there as the assassin repeatedly killed him. The entire time, he didn't try to fight back, nor did he try to run.

He simply stood there. He accepted his fate.

Apollo cackled, as though he broke off the restraints the world put on him.

"And the one person I needed to listen to..."

But there was something deep inside Apollo that rose like a raging flame.

Hatred.

It was hate for everything he had been through, everything he had been forced to experience.

It was only then, did he realize it was all bullshit.

Apollo grabbed his skull with his hand, digging into his scalp.

"...WAS MYSELF."

Apollo completely discarded his old way of thinking, and it was freeing. It was as though he was a caged bird that was finally released. For his entire life, he thought he couldn't fly.

But when Apollo took a step out of the cage, he realized how natural it all was.

He felt like his heart was going to burst, but that pain was what unchained him. The one that woke his true self from the coma that tethered him.

And so, Apollo stood, with his bokken in hand.

Not because anyone else told him to.

Not because anyone else believed in him.

But because he knew he could.

Apollo learned that he didn't need a pillar to hold him up. That even if everything tried to hold him down, nothing could truly stop him from standing tall.

And stand tall, he did.

The dragon made of wind roared before attempting to crush Apollo into pieces with its jaws.

Apollo's hands clenched until his knuckles became white. Then, his bokken flashed.

The dragon made of wind violently tore apart. The jaws lingered, still trying to bite down on Apollo.

As for Apollo, he simply stood there. He didn't even bother looking at it.

Then... the jaws disappeared as well, almost like a fleeting dream.

Rhys immediately coughed up blood. He tightly clutched his chest and hunched over as though he suddenly became an old man.

Rhys continued to cough violently, like a sick patient on their deathbed. The backlash he faced was many times worse than Rhea's as he attempted to maintain his control over the dragon despite it splitting apart.

That was why the jaws remained for an extra moment longer.

However, he miscalculated. Now, they were in a precarious position, with hardly any strength left to fight back.

Rhea furrowed her brows. She held her stomach in pain.

"Impossible. How did this happen..."

Rhys' eyebrows twitched violently. He forced out words through the pain.

"How it happened is no longer important. We must flee."

Rhys narrowed his eyes.

"We are no longer in a condition that begets combat."

Apollo bolted towards the two, as though set off by the words Rhys said. The entire time, he let out a violent laugh. It was as though he was a mastermind villain finally seeing his plan come to fruition.

But Apollo was no mastermind. He was only laughing because he was still alive.

Rhys and Rhea hurriedly retreated. Rhys used currents of wind while Rhea propelled herself with a pillar of water.

However, Apollo was faster. He was even speeding up. The trail of lightning he left grew in intensity, as though telling Apollo to continue onward. His eyes slowly widened even further, even when it seemed like they were at their limit.

A nasty frown formed on the faces of both Rhys and Rhea. They lost the confidence that let them act all high and mighty. Now, they were just rats scurrying away from a predator.

However, Rhys and Rhea soon realized Apollo was far faster than them. The little hope they still had slowly slipped out of their eyes.

Apollo raised his bokken. In just a few more moments, he could tear the two into pieces. But at this moment, something changed.

The bright light of countless nearby houses abruptly dimmed. Oddryl had eyes on every single part of the empire. As such, he did not miss what was happening between Apollo.

After all, he was using the villagers to lead Layla around and the houses to lead Willow and Hex around. He was making sure they didn't interfere with the battle between Apollo and the two on his side. The only way he could do that was if he paid close attention to this battle.

And so, countless beams of light shot towards Apollo.