Junkyard

15/9/2021

It was the type of blade I would read about in fantasy novels – the second half to a swordswoman's soul, a hero's ideal companion. A typical protagonist could only acquire them with significant amount of gold and a legendary class swordsmith at their beck and call. The blade in between my clammy palms though could not have been crafted by hand. It was a strip of jagged ice with a bronze hilt. It looked fragile but as Hilm repeatedly hammered onto it with his steel sword, I began to believe this was truly ice forged from the insides of a dragon.

Dawn, our guide within the palace, must be completely out of his mind to have handed such a weapon to a low grader like me. Also, he was a monster and I, a human. Yes, we've become fast friends, but it just does not make a lick of sense to hand a high-grade loot to someone you've only met two weeks ago.

The ice blade didn't drain my strength at all as I continued to block Hilm's onslaught. I could feel his strength increasing, his weight bearing down more heavily after another strike. That must be his strength-boosting skill at work. Soon my elbows would fail me, and even legendary weapons will be of no help.

As his blade came down once again, I jerked the blade of ice upwards with both hands on its slim hilt. Hilm's sword flew from his grip by the abrupt jar and landed to the side. I didn't have to celebrate that little victory though as Hilm pounced for me, six-foot, 20-pound muscles and all. I was able to tripped him with a foot as I jumped to the side, but the trip was not very successful because I fell chin-first to the ground too. I cursed as the ice blade flew out of my hands.

Somehow, adrenaline or just plain arrogance, I thought I could reach for it if I just stretch enough. I was instead pulled by the ankle and then I felt something large enter through my back and sliding into the ground underneath me.

That won't be enough, pops.

I thought too soon though as the heavy, intrusive presence was now shifting upwards to my neck, grinding against my collarbone and spine. Wow, that really hurts. I could hardly breath and blood was clogging up into my throat. He was most likely going to take me apart. With all my strength left, I pushed to the right, hearing the sickening crack of all my ribs as his sword ripped away a chunk out of my body. Not a good sight but at least I could recover faster.

"What did you do that for?" I groused, slightly bended. I won't show weakness but wow, was I feeling quite drained! The blood puddle where I had been as well as the one still forming under me was alarming.

The ice blade whispered back in between my trembling hands. I desperately heaved in air as Hilm paced back to the opposite side of the ring. The flesh on my side was still knitting up as he spoke:

"Forfeit the match already. There's nothing to prove! I know how strong you are, and you're basically untouchable with Unkillable. Just leave combat to me!" His eyebrows were furrowed with concern, his tone serious. He sported a few bruises but otherwise nothing serious.

This all angered me. Because, despite all my training, he still hasn't let up that incorrigible notion that young girls shouldn't be or get violent.

"Would you have said all this to your sons, if I were them?!" I growled through gritted teeth. "Death still hasn't touched me, old man. Come at me!" A burning hot feeling coursed through me as we once again clashed in the center of the ring.

His sword slid off the length of my blade and took several quick slices at my chest. I was defending poorly, my arms all weird angles as I tried to predict his next strokes. I switched over to my daggers and slid over to his side.

He didn't have time to change footing as I grappled onto his back, plunging my daggers into his spinal cord and sides. He gave a great heave and I fell painfully onto my back in front of him. His sword came down but this time I was able to block with both my daggers in a cross. I kicked him in the crotch with both feet and he stumbled back.

I started thinking if I had wires or rope connected to my daggers, I could've wound them around his knees and tripped him. I'll definitely get to that once this match is over.

"Ouch! Watch where you stick your sticks, Almida!" Hilm yelled as he parried off a close attack to his crotch.

I ignored him and aimed a dagger at his unguarded foot. Of course, I knew his limits – everyone's limits. I would never seriously harm my partner unless...he was being a big dolt.

The dagger stabbed through his foot and a small chink! signalled that it had embedded into the ground.

Hilm reacted accordingly, flailing his arms as he found himself suddenly falling backwards. I threw the other dagger into his other foot for good measure before summoning the ice blade again.

I smirked as he landed on his butt and just as he looked up, the ice blade was held against the tight bob of his throat. "I wi–"

Blood sprayed from my midsection.

One of Hilm's arms was extended in a straight, flat line, with his sword dripping at the end. I didn't have to look down to know this was his winning move.

And so, I pressed down on the ice blade, slitting his throat. His eyes widened just as I felt the upper half my body pitching forward, as if he couldn't believe I had done that: I had crossed THAT limit.

I only felt smug. At times like these, I wondered if I was even human.

But ah...the familiar fatigue of death was creeping up on me. Before I could completely succumb to it, I used the <Body Container> skill on Hilm. The cold press of the rocks beneath my cheeks turned into a distant feeling as his eyes slid shut.

"I can't believe you actually killed me!" Hilm's voice reverberated in the darkness we found ourselves in.

I crossed my arms and deflected. "We gotta practice this move anyway while we can. It's useful."

"I was starting to enjoy the exciting, mortal life again so thanks for this cold reminder of death." He looked down onto his mentally conjured body. "And the pains of laundry duty."

"Well, I wasn't going to make that final move until you made me." I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, I apologise for that. Y'know how it is. The uh, adrenaline."

I brushed off that apology as if dusting off a stray leaf. "I wasn't angered at all about you cutting me in half." I wanted THE apology, THE acceptance and an acknowledgement that I could indeed fight almost as well as him.

I wanted him to get in that thick skull of his that I would be able to watch his back in future violent encounters.

I stared him down with all that I wanted. But I should have known after months and months of being stuck inside him and then finally travelling beside him. This man was denser than a rock, the epitome of a numbskull.

A/N: Being back in lockdown has made me lazy again. But this idea for an isekai story just kept spinning in my head. I have seven pages of the ideas and also working on art for the MCs. This fighting scene was written as a practice and also just to set the stage for the two main characters' dynamic. The third MC's art is posted in my deviantart so check it out if you want a feel for the story setting.