The Master of Uradan

"Today is the end for you Bradley!" A terrible blow shook the room as the two swords hit each other. At first sight, it could be seen that these two swords weren't ordinary ones, or else they would be already destroyed. "Kill all these bastards!"

In the middle of the room Rohan had just entered, the impressionnant fight between the two most powerful warriors of the city was taking place, while around them, tens of warriors were fighting each other.

A warrior used strengthened Blow to cut off an enemy in half, sending guts scattering all around the place while blood flowed on the floor. Another warrior appeared behind this one, and a sword pierced through the skin, flesh, bones and organs with a mighty strength before the blade was removed, letting the lifeless body fall on the ground already humid with blood.

Unbeknownst to Rohan, the path he had taken had brought him to make the whole turn of the basement. He had entered the place where Jared, the rank 2 Beginner Wizard, was living, before he had continued and entered the most important place of the whole basement.

It was a spacious room, with a large table in its center alongside many chairs. All these furniturs were now broken in pieces spreaded all over the place, half swimming in the pool of blood that was starting to form. This room was the one where the important members of the group led by Braldey gathered frequently.

And now, this rank 5 Beginner Warrior was fighting for his life while the other warriors fighting at his side were the stronger and the most experienced ones. But even so, without the wizard at his side, the victory wasn't leaning on his side.

The captain of the guards, fidel follower of the count, slashed his sword at the side, with a mighty blow. He continued with a technical footstep, and as if it was blurred under an extreme speed, the second blow he had chained bypassed the sword Bradley used to defend himself.

As he saw the hit coming his way, the warrior didn't have the choice but to use his Charged skill to get out of there. His opponent was a real master of the way of the sword. He cursed in his head, as for him, such a swordsmanship was only due to his background. If he was also born in a noble family, he would have more resources to become a warrior, he would have learnt rare techniques, and he wouldn't have to struggle the same way.

He rushed back to his enemy, and, holding his sword with his two hands, sent a tempest of strikes as he hit again and again, always faster and fiercer. He turned around his enemy, used all the tricks he had learned by himself, as he saw his own men fall one by one at his side.

All he had now was what he had built with his own two hands, without the help of anyone. The way he fought was learnt the hard way, back when he was living on the street, fighting over a piece of rotten bread. He had fought, over and over again, until by chance, he had found a book with a hard cover in the middle of an alley.

The captain smirked at his opponent and easily parried the blows or dodged them with a superior technique. The clashes of the two swords against each other echoed in the room, as the mighty strength put behind each of them made the two blades move at a miraculous speed.

When he had found the book, Bradley was smart enough to not throw it away even though he didn't know what this book was talking about, and instead, he had tried to read it. After all, if he could read it, then it would be as if he had the same value as a noble child. But the day he had learnt about what the book really was, his life had changed for the best.

He slash at the foe before him, creating sparks all around them. The battle field was a strange one, as in the middle stood the two fighters while all the others were doing their best to not come near them at all. But suddenly, as an act of courage, or maybe foolishness, a rank 3 Beginner Warrior, trying to help the captain, used Charge to appear in front of Bradley and directly followed with a Strengthened Blow, thrusting his sword with all his force.

But there was a reason why a rank 5 Beginner Warrior would almost always win against the inferior ranks. At each time a new meridian was opened, it could be used to strengthen the body for a short time with mana. For the arms, it was a mighty blow, multiplying the strength at an impressionnant level. For the legs, it was an extreme speed, making it easy to shorten distances in the blink of an eye. But what would happen when the last meridian was fully connected to the head?

It was one of the strongest skills for all warriors, that even a Supreme Warrior will use continuously. It was Overload. Bradley sent his mana toward his head, exploding inside his brain. In less than a breath, the world became clearer. The light of the torches on the walls became brighter, the smell of sweat and blood became omnipresent, and the warrior in front of him was moving at a ridiculously slow speed.

He even had the time to watch all the movements of this weak man in front of him, all the imperfections, all the openings, all the weaknesses. Nothing could escape his gaze. With a single step on the side, which seemed slow to him but was still done with the extreme speed of a rank 5 Beginner Warrior, he avoided the blade which continued on its way.

Then, he used a Strengthened blow. It was so slow that he could see with all the details of the warrior widened his eyes before trying to use charge to get out of there. He could even sense the flow of the mana circulating inside his legs in the state he was. But it was too slow. As if fate had decided this result, the tip of the blade entered ever so slowly inside the armored chest of the strong man.

Spark was created from the grinding of the metal against metal, but the blade still continued as if it was only cutting through water. In a time that seemed like eternity in Bradley's eyes, the blade fully entered the body, piercing through the heart in the way until only the handle could be seen. Then, using the strength of his arms still reinforced with the mana, he moved his sword to the right, cutting through everything.

In the corner of his eyes, he could see the leader of the nobles' dogs trying to come to save his man, but they knew both of them that it was useless. The power of this skill was way beyond the capacities of any warriors below the rank 5. Then as if time had decided it was enough, as if the light had decided it was too bright, the state of the brain of Bradley came back to normal.

The body in front of him fell on the floor, dead. But it wasn't the moment to take a look, and he quickly turned around to meet the sword of the other rank 5 Beginner Warrior. In between each assault, Bradley drank a potion to recover his mana. But even so, a fight against two experts was always bound to finish quickly, and at this time, as if they had both agreed at the same time, they used Overload. At this moment, they entered another world.

For the onlookers, this battle was too fast for the eyes, but for them, it was slower than ever. Bradley used Charge chained with Strengthened Blow. But with such a speed, where all the flaws were easily seen, the captain of the guard had ultimately the advantage.

He used a Strengthened Blow to hit the enemy's sword. The two swords connected each other, and it was at that moment that the most experienced fighter slided his blade against the other one. He moved his right foot forward, and as it touched the ground, he didn't hesitate to use Charge, even at such a short distance.

Bradley could only look as the warrior canceled his blow in such a way before he moved toward him. He could see everything, and that was what made him desperate.

The day he had understood that the book he had found was in fact describing the way to become a warrior, he had discovered that he had a real talent in it. And even without potions, without resources, he had promoted and rank up. With nothing but his own effort, with nothing but his own hands, he had become stronger. He was even stronger than these nobles who had everythings since birth, he was even stronger than those who had only rank up with nothing more but a large quantity of potions.

But at the end, when he had become a rank 5 Beginner Warrior, when the captain of the guard, the one standing in front of him, had used the Essence Stone to update his warrior's emblem, there was only disdain in his eyes. The count, disgusted to see such a lowly person became that strong, had refused to give him anything. The nobles, too proud of their lineages, had looked down on him.

What could he do? What could he choose to do, but to take what was meant to be him?

The tip of the sword of the enemy had now reached his throat. His sword was out of the way, too far to be of any utility. His balance wasn't perfect, and using a skill would take too much time. The tip began to enter through the skin. It was the drawback of this skill Overload. As all the senses were multiplied to the extreme, the pain that he was feeling was the worst one.

He felt the cold iron going slowly inside his throat, while he was staring straight at the eyes of his enemy. He would die, and he would suffer before that, but he wouldn't show it. It was his pride. It wasn't the pride of the noblemen, showing off their belonging to a group which was only due to birth. It was his pride, the one he had felt each time he ranked up, the one he had felt each time he was becoming powerful, the one he had felt each time he was surpassing a noble.

It was the pride in his own capacity.

The pride of a warrior.