Watcher of Fate

The remaining [Lvl 20 Human Swordsman (Uncommon)] turned to face Elara, his eyes narrowing with deadly intent. He was a towering figure, his muscular frame clad in half-plate armor that gleamed dully in the camp's flickering firelight. His face was rugged and scarred, a testament to the many battles he fought and survived. His breath came in visible puffs in the cool night air, and the scent of metal and sweat wafted from his imposing form. He wielded a colossal-sized sword, its blade almost as tall as Elara herself, and it glinted menacingly as he raised it. The air around him seemed to hum with tension, the promise of violence imminent.

Elara didn't hesitate. With fierce determination, she charged at the swordsman, her blade ready. The ground seemed to tremble beneath her feet as she closed the distance between them, her heart pounding in her ears. Each footfall was a drumbeat of impending conflict, the earth beneath her boots cold and unyielding. The swordsman met her charge with a roar, a sound that echoed through the night and sent a shiver down her spine. His massive sword swung in a wide arc, the whistle of its passage slicing through the air.

Their weapons clashed with a thunderous impact. The steel ring on steel reverberated through the camp, a sharp, discordant symphony that set Elara’s teeth on edge. Her initial strike was parried with ease, and the swordsman's strength and skill were evident in his movements. She followed up with a swift [Technique: Moonlit Inscription Piercing Thrust], aiming for a gap in his armor. But the swordsman twisted, his half plate deflecting the blow harmlessly, the metallic clang resounding like a death knell.

Elara danced around him, her blade a blur as she launched a series of attacks. She used [Technique: Starlit Inscription Slashing Arc], her sword carving graceful arcs through the air. Each strike was met with a block or parry, the swordsman's colossal blade moving with surprising agility. The air was filled with the sharp tang of sweat and iron, mingling with the acrid scent of fear and adrenaline. Elara could feel the strain in her muscles, the exertion of each attack taking its toll, her breaths coming in rapid, shallow gasps.

The swordsman retaliated with powerful swings, his massive sword forcing Elara to stay on the defensive. She dodged a few of his strikes, but his relentless assault soon found its mark. A brutal slash caught her across the side, the pain searing through her body like a hot brand. -250 HP.

HP: 880 of 1944 + (17.4 HP / Sec)

Elara gritted her teeth against the pain, refusing to back down. She launched another attack, using [Technique: Serpent's Inkflow Embrace] to try and slip past his defenses. Her blade connected with his armor, but the thick plates absorbed most of the impact, leaving only a minor dent.

The swordsman countered with a devastating overhead strike. Elara barely managed to raise her sword in time to block, the force of the blow driving her to her knees. She rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding another crushing strike, and came back up on her feet, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Another exchange followed, each one more brutal than the last. Elara's [Technique: Falling Leaf Reflection Brushstroke] deflected several of his attacks, but she couldn't find an opening to land a telling blow. The swordsman's relentless assault continued, and his colossal sword became a blur of deadly steel. Another hit caught her across the shoulder. ,-280 HP

HP: 634 of 1944 + (17.4 HP / Sec)

Elara staggered but managed to stay on her feet. The pain was excruciating, but she forced herself to focus. The battle raged on, with neither combatant able to gain a clear upper hand. Each time Elara thought she saw an opening, the swordsman would parry or block, his armor deflecting her strikes. And Elara would dodge or deflect each time the swordsman attacked, narrowly avoiding a fatal blow.

Panting and bleeding, Elara could feel her strength waning. Each breath was a struggle, her lungs burning with the effort. Blood seeped from numerous wounds, staining her clothes and the ground beneath her. Her vision blurred as exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her, but she couldn't afford to stop.

"You can't win," Elara said, her voice hoarse and strained. "Look around you. Your companions are dead, and the caravan is waking. Soon, people will join me in defeating you."

The swordsman laughed, a harsh, bitter sound that echoed through the night. "You think that matters? You've failed to land any significant blows on me. Yes, I might fall, but you will die first for what you did to my husband."

Elara's eyes widened in shock, but there was no time to process the revelation. She pushed herself forward, launching into another series of attacks. She used [Technique: Moonlit Inscription Piercing Thrust] and [Technique: Starlit Inscription Slashing Arc], her movements growing increasingly desperate. But her exhaustion slowed her, and the swordsman easily handled her attacks, parrying and blocking with practiced ease.

Another brutal swing from the swordsman found its mark, slashing across Elara's chest. -239 HP

HP: 464 of 1944 + (17.4 HP / Sec)

She cried out in pain but forced herself to keep fighting. She attempted [Technique: Serpent's Inkflow Embrace] to weave around him, but her movements were sluggish. The swordsman countered with a powerful strike to her leg. -286 HP

HP: 195 of 1944 + (17.4 HP / Sec)

Elara stumbled, barely managing to stay upright. Her body screamed in agony, every nerve alight with pain. She tried to rally, using [Technique: Falling Leaf Reflection Brushstroke] to deflect his next attack, but her reactions were too slow. The swordsman's colossal sword crashed into her shoulder. -204 HP. [Warrior Reprieve (Uncommon)] ticking as the sword landed.

HP: 8 of 1944 + (17.4 HP / Sec)

Elara dropped to one knee, gasping for breath. Blood trickled down her arm, and she felt herself growing weaker with each passing moment. The swordsman loomed over her, his expression a mix of rage and triumph.

"Your end is near," he snarled, raising his sword for the final blow.

Elara panted on her knees, unable to move, blood pooling around her. The world seemed to go silent as she focused herself, grabbing a fleeting moment of peace as her skill [Oneness (Rare)] took hold of her. Time slowed, and she saw the caravan members finally rousing, some moving in slow motion towards her. Their silent screams of horror were muted as the swordsman raised his sword above his head to bring it down and finish her off.

Elara smiled at the swordsman, a serene calmness washing over her as he swung downwards. The colossal blade descended with brutal finality, its path unwavering. Elara's body split apart beneath the sword's immense weight and force. Blood sprayed out, painting the ground around her as the brutal impact sent shockwaves through the earth.

The swordsman's eyes lit up with savage glee, his lips curling into a triumphant smile. He reveled in the sight of Elara's body torn asunder, her defeat appearing absolute. The caravan members' silent screams turned into cries of despair, their hopes dashed as they witnessed Elara's end.

But then, as one fallen half of her burst into a shimmer of mana, the other half began to transform. The shimmering mana dissipated, and a full Elara emerged from the illusion. The swordsman's triumphant smile faltered, confusion creeping into his expression. His sword, which he had expected to be drenched in Elara's blood, cleaved into the ground next to her, missing her by a hair's width.

HP: 8 of 1944 + (17.4 HP / Sec)

Mana: 2 of 1995

Spell [Greater Illusion (Rare)] level increased.

The swordsman tried to lift his sword again, his muscles straining. But a sudden wave of weakness washed over him. His knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground, the weight of his colossal weapon pulling him down.

Elara, barely able to move, fell over as well, her body wracked with pain and exhaustion. Her one hand remained gripping her sword, which was sunk to the hilt through his groin and deep into his belly. Her other hand dropped the rogue's dagger she had pulled from her stomach, its blade slick with blood from where she had cut both of his femoral arteries.

The swordsman's eyes widened in shock and pain as the reality of his injuries set in. Blood poured from his wounds, pooling around him as his life ebbed away. Elara's vision began to blur, the world around her growing dim. The last thing she saw before everything went black was the swordsman's eyes, wide with disbelief and terror, as the life drained from them.

---

Elara awoke to the gentle swaying and the rhythmic creaking of a moving cart. The scent of earth and wood filled her nostrils, mingling with the faint, metallic tang of blood. Pain radiated from her wounds, a dull throb that brought her fully to her senses. She tried to sit up but was immediately pressed back down by a firm hand.

"Stay down," Roderick's voice commanded gently. "You're still very injured."

Blinking to clear her vision, Elara saw Roderick's concerned face hovering above her. His expression was a mix of relief and worry. She shifted slightly, feeling the bandages wrapped tightly around her torso and limbs.

Her Spirit Crow perched on the side of the cart, its dark eyes gleaming with an unusual intensity. "Your [Spirit Tree] refused to allow you to pass on," it croaked. "The merchants gave you a couple of powerful health potions. I bet they charge you for them."

Elara managed a weak smile at the crow's familiar sarcasm. She took a deep breath, feeling the pain and slight relief from the potion's effects. Her mind slowly pieced together the fragments of her memory, the intense battle with the swordsman, and the desperate fight for survival.

"Roderick," she croaked, her voice weak, "where is my sword?"

Roderick nodded reassuringly. "We collected all your stuff, Elara. Your sword and the bandits' gear are safe. People are eager to hear the full story of what happened."

Elara felt a sense of relief wash over her. Despite the pain and exhaustion, she knew she had survived another ordeal. The memories of the fierce battle and the final moments with the swordsman were still vivid in her mind. Still lying in the cart with her companions looking out for her, she felt a sense of accomplishment and determination to continue.