Loopbreaker

Francis felt unstoppable. Behind him was an army, cheering for him.

Stenson had helped procure better armor and another sword from the king. Baxter had balked at first at the request of his general to give this kind of equipment to someone so young, but after having watched Francis duel Kels in the training area, he hesitated no longer.

Francis had to turn down plate armor, partially because none fit his physique and the other reason was that he had never trained in it. There would be time, many loops where this moment could happen again, but for now Francis wanted to fight to the best of his ability.

Hundreds of beastkin lay dead, a straight line of destruction carved in a single direction.

Rhino-kins charged, and Francis slaughtered them all, carving flesh from bone, even removing heads from their thick necks, staining the soil with blood like a spring rain.

Snake-kin sent waves of magic, trying to drown him in poison, yet Francis shrugged those spells off, stunning the casters as he used Magical Feedback to stop their casting the moment their threads reached him.

Every creature that came at him found a pair of blades drenched in the blood of their allies waiting for them. Arrows flew toward him and Francis danced to the side, deflecting a few with his weapons, laughing at how much easier all this was in the light of the morning sun.

Elite catkins charged, and while his sword skill was still not an elite one, his Warrior’s Resolve, combined with his skills, made short work of them, even when surrounded by three or four at a time.

Francis didn’t pause, ignoring the roars that carried through the beastkin army; instead, he dodged arrows and finally reached the bear-kins that had pincushioned him so many times in his life.

Each of them dropped their bows which were taller than Francis, reaching for swords on their hips, but it was too late. He was upon them and regardless of how strong they were, Francis was too fast. Their swings felt slow and he parried, riposted and took off hands and arms, eventually removing heads when the bear-kins fell to their knees.

Giant feet of the creatures they had hidden behind tried to step on him, but Francis just laughed, running and jumping, using Power Strike to stick his sword into their thick skin.

Francis climbed his way up the twenty feet or more of legs, parrying an arrow that came at him from one side, racing up the creature as fast as he could.

As Francis neared the spot where he could climb on top, having to weave his way around large spikes that jutted downward to keep him from doing what he was, Battle Sense told him of an incoming arrow. All he could do was twist, feeling the arrow pierce his armor and chest, destroying a pair of ribs as it got lodged inside him.

Pain Resistance nullified what would have caused most men to black out, and Warrior’s Resolve roared with power.

Ignoring the injury and four feet or more of an arrow sticking out of him, Francis sheathed a blade, grabbed a spike, and yanked himself airborne.

One moment, he had been a target for archery practice and the next he was once again death. Francis assaulted the group of bear-kins on top, cutting them to pieces and spotted a different-looking kind of creature, a pair of what looked like bear-kins but with big white faces, black circles around their eyes and a black body holding reins to the massive beast on its head.

Wolf-kin’s came at him, and Francis continued to slay every creature on top of this beast, hacking at thick ropes that bound the siege weapons to its massive body.

Snapping sounds and the fraying of the bindings rang out. While Francis wasn’t a genius or would ever claim to know much about siege weaponry, Francis knew something bad was going to happen as the tension in the equipment started to give. He ran to the area he had climbed, keeping his feet as the giant creature shifted and swayed.

Every second Francis’ speed and strength increased, the arrow still jutting from his back, causing Warrior’s Resolve to fan the flames that burned within.

His attempt at jumping and using his swords to work like anchors in the beast's leg failed and Francis fell, pulling off an incredibly impressive flip that resulted in him landing on his feet and not on his face.

Holy crap!

Impressed with himself and that falling from that height didn’t hurt at all, his Strong Bones and high Endurance and Strength had just revealed a truth he had yet to uncover.

I can fall from that high and not get hurt!

Not that he was planning on running and jumping off cliffs or walls anytime soon, Francis didn’t have time to ponder the other things he might be able to do. A roar growing louder as it raced toward him.

The quartet of elite catkins that had approached were backing off, and Francis grimaced, sliding both swords into their scabbards and quickly grabbed the arrow with one hand and pushed.

Its tip pressed against his armor and Francis continued pushing until it poked through, grabbing the exposed metal with his other hand and began feeding it through his body.

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As he did this, the pure black beastkin cat he had fought last night appeared, pausing as it watched him pull out the arrow.

“Impressive… tell me, softskin, what is your name?”

Francis tried not to laugh, finally freeing the arrow from his body and discarding it on the ground.

Blood flowed from Francis’ chest but his body felt alive. Far more than it had ever felt with Death’s Dance.

“I’d ask the same, but you’ll tell me you don’t think I’m worthy of knowing it, so why bother?”

The beastkin’s head reacted slightly, eyelids closing some, hiding a part of its yellow eyes.

“How would you know such things?!” it demanded.

“I’ve faced your kind before. Honor is important, isn't it? But for now, I don’t have time for this.” As he finished shouting at the beast, Francis pulled both swords free and charged.

This time Francis could see the grin appear as his opponent pulled two curved blades from its back and came at him.

It was fast, just as fast as he could remember last time, but Francis saw the way it moved without the aid of night or what might have been some trick of his senses. Somehow, its body blurred as it moved. Both swords came in the same pattern as the first and Francis met them, blade against blade, sparks flying when the metal connected. This time he only slid a few feet, a small rivet of dirt where his boots had dug in.

“You–”

It had tried to speak yet Francis knew this battle wasn’t going to be one where they could spend hours talking about life. His chest ached; the pain was there, a dull throb and one of his ribs had punctured a lung. In his chest, Francis’ heart pounded and Warrior’s Resolve controlled its beat.

Every step he had taken in the last few moments helped him to process the new speed at which he moved.

[ Power Strike ]

[ Quick Attack ]

[ Flurry ]

Two attacks landed and Francis cut the creature on both arms, drawing blood that dripped from its black fur.

It retaliated, crying out like a tortured child. Their blades created a song of battle that played out before all the beasts watching.

Francis dodged, activated Shield Wall, used Riposte and parried every strike that he could.

Each moment an opening came, Francis got close, striking at the beastkin, cutting its leg when it tried to kick him, stabbing at its stomach and chest.

Francis gained more wounds, the cat’s sword having sliced sideways and getting past his defenses. Francis’ attempt at parrying failed and a deep gash that cut through his armor and a good three inches into his right side leaked more of the blood his body needed to keep going.

Yet through all of this, Warrior’s Resolve showed its true power. Death’s Dance had been a small trump card occasionally. It allowed Francis to fight above his level, adding power he wouldn’t normally possess, but was limited to when he was on the losing path already.

His new legendary skill made Francis stronger from the moment he took damage. None of the first creatures he faced had done any damage, and it wasn’t until the snake-kin that Francis truly felt the power waiting to be unleashed. Even with his Magic Resist and Poison Resist being at the level they were, he still took damage, his skin still melted some, and Warrior’s Resolve showed its teeth.

And then came the arrow that had kicked in the door to true power as it rammed through Francis’ back and chest. It was like a forge filled with coals, suddenly surrounded by multiple people with dozens of bellows blowing air over it in a well-timed pattern. The heat grew and now it threatened to burn the very ingot one would try to craft something with.

Francis’ body ached from the sensation inside his muscles. There was so much power that his body almost seemed at risk of damaging itself because it couldn’t contain the strength and speed it gave. Everything felt pressed to its limit, yet it was the greatest sensation he had ever felt in a while.

Francis felt alive. Truly alive. Every death had led to this moment. He was facing a foe far stronger than him, and yet Francis was causing it injuries and pain. Only once had it revealed a skill, right at the start, but Francis knew it had to have more it held back.

Even with all the wounds Francis had inflicted, he was certain it was only inconvenienced. But even a mosquito could cause someone’s life to suffer as it bit them all night long. And Francis was more than happy to be that mosquito that drank deep from the creature before him.

[ Power Strike ]

[ Quick Attack ]

[ Flurry ]

Blood flowed from wounds that Francis’ weapons created. He pulled his sword back from the fourth strike, sensing the beast’s own weapon coming down at his head.

Francis tried to dodge, but another blade was coming from the side, pinning him in.

[ Shield Wall ]

Right arm extended, unable to parry both, Francis parried the blade to his side, shifting and twisting, feeling the metal tear through armor, flesh, and bone. His right shoulder, side and down to his hip was cleaved from his body. Blood ran like a river the moment it realized it could be free from the flesh that held it inside.

And Warrior’s Resolve ignited as if someone had tossed casks of alcohol upon it.

It surprised Francis how much power filled him and it was then he knew what it meant.

I should be dead.

Ten seconds was all Francis would have. Each one would pass quickly but for those precious moments, he was going to unleash the power that needed a release.

His left arm pushed back the attack and Francis struck.

[ Power Strike ]

[ Flurry ]

His blade carved through the creature's right leg, hacking far deeper than ever before, striking bone.

The beast stumbled as the impact of metal on bone radiated up its body and Francis’s arm.

Yet Francis wasn’t done yet. Over and over, Francis used those same two skills again, ignoring the blade that came at his body. He still had easily seven or eight seconds left, but Francis knew his opponent would probably take off his head before that time ran out.

So, he surged as close as Francis could, ramming his sword upward, once again using the inner thigh and the exposed skin as a target. Francis had wondered why it didn’t wear more armor. Others did, this one didn’t. Just some simple garbs that protected its groin.

Maybe it was pride and the desire to show off its impressive stature, but one’s pride often came before their fall.

Francis sent his sword upward, carving through the flesh inside that thigh, finding the artery most had right there, and slit it open for over a foot.

Francis was knocked backward, sent tumbling from the strike that impacted his chest, the sensation of everything from below his ribs gone.

Precious seconds were spent rolling along the ground and Francis found himself face-first in the dirt. Still surging with power, he used his left hand, turning himself over and looked at the beastkin whose eyes were wide, hand pressed against the wound Francis had made, blood rushing out as its heart beat.

“Looks like I got you,” Francis tried to say. His voice sounded weird, blood spewing forth with every word he spoke.

A look of fear came over the creature as it ripped off its loincloth and tied it around its leg near the top.

“I will–”

Whatever it had been trying to say fell on deaf ears. Time had run out and darkness had taken over.