Requiem Of A Failed Hero

The asuras were creatures that were messengers to deities and primordials. Even though they were classified as messengers, their combat prowess was not to be underlooked. And thanks to their undying desire to grow stronger, some of them even end up gaining the power of a god and are able to easily beat archons.

Of course, no one in the present world built by archons knew this, for the very fact: Raith was the first person that has ever encountered one.

And his repetitive death was not out of place when faced with a foe that used to run deadly errands for deities and primordials.

At first, enduring the pain caused an increase in his endurance stat, and strength stat but after the fifth death. His stats stopped increasing.

Like it or not, he was already getting used to the pain, the fact that he was anticipating it was also a factor. It didn't matter how long it took for the asura to kill him, the pain was always bearable because he was expecting it.

With his few deaths, he had been able to deduce two things. Firstly, the creature that stood in front of him was insanely strong and secondly, he found the way his stat would increase, although he is not happy about having to die now and then, that doesn't mean he can keep dying over and over again. Just like he noticed, the moment he started anticipating death and pain, he got nothing off it.

'Damn dust... so this is it? I'm still changing archons'

He clenched his teeth and closely monitored the asura from a safe distance that allowed him to react. The asura itself had begun to notice that no matter how many times he kills this human. He would always come back.

He stood straight, pausing his circular leg movement, and pointed to Raith.

"You. You are an adversary of death, aren't you?"

He asked with overwhelming intimidation to his inquiry.

His voice made fear vibrate in Raith's heart and his whole body resonated to the frequency.

'He can talk?'

"Of course, I can talk"

'He can read my mind?'

"Of course, I can read your mind! Did he send you here without telling you anything?"

"He? Who?"

Raith instinctively asked, belatedly wishing he could retract the question.

"Fel! That criminal sent you to kill me and didn't tell you how? Because to me, you look like a useless chump of meat who knows nothing but to keep dying. Is this the challenge he intends to put on after five hundred years?"

None of what the asura was saying was making sense to Raith. Except for the fact that Fel is the archon of death.

"You were trapped here by the archon of death?"

"Archon of death? What no–****#?*$

"Huh? You said something just now but I didn't hear."

The asura paused and looked at Raith.

His sudden silence put Raith in a twinkling of confusion. But he jacked away from it as soon as the asura resumed its pursuit.

~kpang~

He didn't expect to black the arch-slash with the small skinning knife he had with him. That was the only weapon that was accessible to him at the moment because it always stayed in his pocket.

It was a reflexive action, his arms curved on their own to block the asura's attack but he didn't have the body to take it and was still pushed back by its impact, tumbling and rolling twice before jumping to his feet again.

Raith was not oblivious to the fundamentals of combat as a hero. It was something that every prestigious family would prepare their sons and daughters for.

In anticipation of the awakening age, children starting from the age of ten were taught to be skillful with different weapons and items, and for Raith whose father was obsessed with the sword. He was diligently taught how to use the sword. But showed no talent in it. After two years of hoping his son would grasp it, Lambert gave up and stopped teaching him anything.

All he had was just head knowledge and now that he was faced with a real-time scenario where he had all the time in the world to fight, putting the head knowledge to some practical situation was a very tough thing to do.

He had been trying it from the first go but he just couldn't get it.

The Dellagado sword style is not flamboyant and excessive. The essence of the sword style itself was elimination with minimal footwork at the same time creating an opportunity to destroy the opponent's rhythm.

Which was why it was essential for a beginner to learn the 'the counter-step'. A legwork that was created by Vincent Dellagado, the first sword hero and a genius of the sword like no other, the main purpose of the legwork is to read the rhythm and motion of its opponent's legs and break it apart at a single moment of the counter with one fluid movement.

All of the Dellagado family sword techniques are focused around this legwork which makes it a 'from-the-down' type of swordsmanship than one where the sword does all the work, it is always the leg doing all the work.

Even though Raith knew this much, he still couldn't bring himself to do it. The leg placement was complex and complicated, one needed to have a keen observation to respond to their opponent's leg. But all that, Raith lacked, the pieces would not come together no matter how much he tries.

~whim~

Again the asura slipped into him just when he thought he could keep blocking to keep the creature at bay at least until he figured this out. The asura raised him into the air with his large hands clenching his neck.

"All I see is you dancing like a clown. Is this what the humans have fallen to?"

He grunted, tightening his grip on his neck while Raith endlessly struggled to pull the hand away, kicking the asura over and over again but the asura did not move.

"You lack strength"

He said emotionlessly. Still watching Raith with goad, –as if telling him to fight harder, break out of his grip.

Raith's sclera reddened and before long began to bleed, his mouth began to monetarily squirt blood till he had less and less strength to struggle.

THIS CHAPTER UPLOAD FIRST AT NOVELBIN.COM