Heart of Demise.

41

Rory was gleaming red, but it hadn't come from her eyes. She gazed at her opponent– a powerless boy, one who hadn't struck her even once. And yet, he was the one with bellowing laughter. It only brightened the color on her face.

She pointed at him accusingly. What a dirty trick it was, to rely on a firearm in a duel, and he even taunted her after!

She was done being nice. Making that mistake nearly cost Rory her life. She wanted to charge in and beat that brat to an unrecognizable pulp so badly. But she couldn't. She was smarter than that.

That gun... even if it was a bluff, to act like it was would be a foolish mistake. Her opponent– Lewis, hadn't the need to hit her with his dagger anymore. A single shot in a remotely vital place would be devastating.

And she would not rely on her servants.

Lewis rushed in, his dagger pointed at her and a crude smile on his face. It pissed her off, but that wasn't important.

Lewis thrust his dagger at her, to which Rory stepped to the side. But, right after, Lewis raised his leg and sent his foot toward her. She backed away, then began to reel her hammer back.

But then, Lewis pointed his gun directly at her face. Her heart sank, causing her to momentarily freeze.

That was all that Lewis needed. He flipped his dagger, gripped the blade, and–

**SMASH**

A hit from below. A direct hit, square on the chin. The force surprised Rory, sending her a foot off the ground. Rory quickly slammed her hammer into the ground and flipped over onto her feet.

"Ah, you cheat! You dirty cheat!" Rory roared.

Lewis stood there, his smile now faded, and his expression calmed. But Rory focused on the item tightly gripped by his left hand.

That gun. That pesky gun. He could've killed her so easily, so why didn't he? She began to think about it, then realized what was up.

He probably only had one bullet, didn't he? Why else would he be so hesitant? Rory smiled, she felt more secure.

"I see what you're up to, you cheat–"

"My God, don't you know how to stop talking?"

Lewis flipped his dagger and charged in yet again, thrusting it toward her, which she dodged. He thrusted it again, and again, and the fourth time, Rory pushed the blade down.

Stupid, didn't he realize how easy he was to parry? She'd already done it twice before, so why was–

"Gotcha."

Lewis pushed his gun against Rory's chest. There it was, his perfect shot. She gritted her teeth, preparing for something worse than that kick.

"...Huh?"

**SHANK**

"Hrk!"

The gun hadn't been shot. Instead, Lewis' dagger dug into Rory's stomach right beside where the gun was pressed. Instinctively, Rory swiped her hand across, hitting Lewis right in the face, and backed off.

The fresh pain burnt like her stomach had been dipped in lava. She'd never felt this feeling before– the feeling of being stabbed. She wasn't sure if it was worse than the kick, but her rapid breathing and reddening hand was convincing.

Lewis got back on his feet– then immediately collapsed to his knees. Rory was lucky; now she had an opportunity, though small, to rest.

The most important thing was to stop the bleeding. Though there weren't any bandages, she still had a passable substitute– her cloak, torn up as it was. She swiftly took it off and wrapped it around her stomach. Now, she just wore a sleeveless shirt.