Valknar
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NM - Chapter 33
🕑 Added 2025-03-08 08:00:26 +0000 UTCAs McGregor approached, the Challenger swung around to meet him. He was holding his sword in a pose that showed he knew how to use it. He had his sword arm pulled back and the other arm straight out in front of him parallel to the blade. His footing had also changed, and I felt he was ready to spring forward at any moment.
McGregor was able to halt his forward momentum. If he had not, he would have been impaled upon the sword. He backed up slightly to give himself more room to play with and pulled a second blade from under his coat. He hunched over slightly and looked for a way through his opponent's guard.
The pair slowly started to circle each other, each looking for an opening.
The Challenger made the first move. He moved forward gracefully and began stabbing with a sword. McGregor was forced onto the defensive, using his knives to deflect the blade trying to pierce him.
The new layout of the dungeon had reduced the amount of space around the path. The graves were much closer to the edge of the walkway now. McGregor knew this as he was being forced back towards the headstones. If he were pinned there, he would be in serious trouble.
He made it look like he was preparing to dive to the right but shifted to the left at the last minute, throwing his opponent off slightly and allowing him to get out into a more favourable position. His opponent quickly turned and faced him again. From the footwork and the stance, I was confident that the Challenger had been trained in martial arts that involved the sort he was using.
The Challenger was again on the attack, forcing my hunter back. This time, he backed up the pathway, giving him more room to work with. He was desperately deflecting the blades with his knives but was at a massive disadvantage here.
He held his blades differently in each hand. The right had the blade upward, while the left had it downward. This allowed him to block the sword by deflecting it as it approached him. His breathing was becoming more laboured as he exerted himself quite thoroughly, and his opponent did not let up. As for the Challenger, his breathing was becoming deeper and faster, but he was regulating it far better due to his training.
The Challenger never let up and continually attacked McGregor, keeping him off balance and unable to take the initiative: block and counter, block and counter. The deadly dance continued, with McGregor unable to get close as the Challenger kept dominating the fight.
The sword proved the decisive factor as McGregor was forced to absorb two separate strikes rapidly. His heavy clothing protected him from most of it, but the blade sliced through, and now he had a bleeding wound on his left arm and right shoulder.
He was losing, and he knew it.
This Challenger was too much for him, and he chose to retreat.
He turned tail and ran as fast as he could, which surprised the Challenger enough for him to get away, as he was not followed. The Challenger stood there for several minutes, wondering if he was coming back, but it quickly became apparent he was not, so he continued along the path. His stance was that of a man prepared for violence at any moment.
With McGregor stepping away from the fight, the Challenger was now in Rodriguez's territory. While I waited for Rodriguez to get into position to fight this new Challenger, I thought about McGregor. He was skilled and sadistic by nature, but when faced with a competent challenger, he seemed a bit of a letdown.
“Do I have to start training my Hunters?”
They were monsters, not warriors. I had to work with what I had.
The day was coming to an end, and the sun was starting to set in the West. Darkness was beginning to cover the dungeon; the shadows deepened as the light faded. This would work in my Hunter's favour now, but it might not be enough against this guy's training with a sword.
Rodriguez sprang an ambush as he turned the corner to move to the next ring in the maze leading to the church. There was a tree next to the T-junction connecting the two rings. He had positioned himself behind it, and the Challenger had not seen him due to the growing darkness around him.
I have to admit this Challenger's reflexes were good. As soon as Rodriguez attacked, the man was on the defensive and used a sword to parry the first attempt of Rodriguez’s tomahawk to end the fight. My hunter was in close now and kept up the pressure. The Challenger was the one backing up now, trying to give himself more room to manoeuvre and bring the greater length of the sword into play.
Rodriguez swung in again with his tomahawk, expecting it to be parried to the sword, but instead, the Challenger dropped it. He reached out, grabbed Rodriguez's arm, and then threw my hunter over his shoulder with a twist of his upper body. Rodriguez hit the ground hard and was winded. The force of the impact on the ground had caused him to drop his tomahawk. The Challenger used this opportunity to recover his sword, and by the time Rodriguez could get back up, there was a distance between them.
Rodriguez was now on the defensive. He was in a worse position than McGregor because his tomahawk was less effective than the knives he had used. The Challenger pressed using his sword's length to its best advantage, and Rodriguez was now backing up fast to give himself room.
Rodriguez was a better brawler than McGregor.
He ran towards his opponent and launched himself into the air. The challenger was not prepared for this. Rodriguez collided with him in a combination of close line and shoulder barge, knocking him back onto the ground. The sword was knocked away by the impact of the Challenger with the path. Rodriguez was on top of him and scrambled to straddle him to gain the advantage to win this fight.
A forearm blocked the tomahawk as it swung down. The fight had become a grappling match, with punches and elbows being used. Both men were seeking an advantage and rolling around. Grunts and cries of pain came when blows found their mark.
It was intense and brutal now. The Challenger cried in pain as Rodriguez bit into a hand holding on to the tomahawk's handle. This allowed him to regain control of it when the other hand let go.
The fist to his face stopped him from doing more. The pole was strong enough to knock him to the side and allow the challenger to roll him over and place himself on top.
Rodriguez wasn't done yet by any measure. He returned the blow with one of his own, followed by an elbow to the ribs as he rolled him back.
I did not know if Rodriguez had seen the danger he was now in. During the scuffle and the rolling, the challenger had come close enough to his sword to grab the handle once more. This time, he swung up with a closed fist around the handle, but its blade guard caught Rodriguez in the face.
This cut open his cheek and knocked him to the side again. This time, the challenger didn't try to gain dominance but rolled the other way, giving them distance. Both men quickly scrambled to their feet and faced off against each other once more.
Now, it was impossible to tell which way this fight would go.
The challenger initiated an attack this time. He closed the distance between them, fast-striking with his sword. Rodriguez was forced to backpedal quickly or get skewed, but he was not fast enough, and the blade caught him across his chest. He smiled in pain, but the wound was not too deep, as it was only the tip of the blade that had caught him. As with MacGregor, his heavy clothing protected him from some of the danger the blade presented.
Both men were breathing heavily from the exertion of the fight, but Rodriguez was not letting up. He charged forward, swinging aggressively with this tomahawk in shorter, more controlled swings. This forced the challenger back as he was desperately defending himself. Rodriguez was able to batter aside the sword blade and score a grazing hit against the challenger. The wound was on his upper left arm and was not deep.
The Challenger used the pommel of his sword as a weapon, striking it into Rodriguez's face, knocking him back, and breaking his nose. Thick dark red blood flowed from his nose. Like Rigger, his blood was changing as he spent longer within the Dungeon and levelled up.
By now, the fight had dragged on long enough for the sun to have nearly set. The last rays of the sun were illuminating this desperate struggle. Both men were in such a position that neither could take advantage of the dying light to blind the other.
Rodriguez went on the attack again to finish the fight. This time, his opponent did something different and stepped forward to meet him. Just as they were about to get close enough to clash blades, he dropped to a knee. With a savage and powerful sideways slash, he caught Rodriguez across the stomach. This time, the wound was deep.
Rodriguez was forced to backpedal again, desperately holding in his intestines as they threatened to spill out. I could tell straight away that this fight was over now. We were close to Rodriguez’s lair; he needed to get out there now if he would survive that wound.
He made the same calculation and quickly smiled, so I started retreating. He did not turn his back up on his opponent but quickly moved away, and the challenger was unsure whether or not to follow. I could understand his hesitation, as the wounds that he inflicted on my hunter could usually prove fatal unless treated quickly.
The challenger looked at my hunter and then to the church. He looked back again, decided, and moved away in the opposite direction towards the church.
“That one's over, then.”
I looked over the Challenger one last time before following Rodriguez. I could not take any action when a challenger was in the dungeon, but I could watch to ensure he got back to his lair.
It did not take long, and he was soon tucked away. As soon as the doors closed, I was notified how long it would take him to heal, and I went back, looking for the challenger.
When I found him, he had reached the central part of the maze that made up the dungeon. He was on the South side of the church, moving around the building to get to the doors on the other side.
The last three hunters left in play are Rigger, Roberson, and the Hateful Spirit. He would eventually run into one of them, depending on what direction he went when he came out of the church. I knew that none of them could reach him in time before he went through the doors to the church, so he was protected until he left. By the time he reached the doors, he had lit the miner's lantern, which he carried with him to help illuminate the way.
I watched him open the doors and step inside the church. The usual sensation of peace and the end of hostilities swept over me. As the sign above the door said, this was a sanctuary to a Challenger.
After closing the doors behind him, he walked towards the altar. His body language had changed, and he had become far more relaxed but still wary as he stepped forward. Whatever brought them here always instructed the challengers that they were safe while they were in this building. Of the few challenges that made it this far, they had never doubted that.
When he reached the altar, he placed the lantern on it. Slowly, with some care, he rotated the satchel around as his arm injury gave him trouble. From within a satchel, he pulled out a jade medallion. The medallion was round with a square hole in the middle. It was about two inches wide and covered with designs and oriental writing that I could not understand. A simple piece of string would allow it to be worn around the neck.
With some reference, he placed the medallion on the altar, and my mind was flooded with images.
[Challenger’s offering has been accepted.]
I got the impression of a family. Being trained in the family way of war and of the sword. I got glimpses of fire and pain. After that, there was no more.
The challenger had sat down during my visions and pulled off his coat. He saw it was once more in its sheath and sitting beside him. He was reaching into a satchel and pulling out bandages to treat his wounded arm. Most of the left arm was covered in blood, which had soaked into his white shirt.
He ripped off the lid and sleeve of the shirt and set about cleaning the wound. Once this was done, he bandaged it up. He drank water from his canteen, pulled out jerky from the satchel, and started eating it. Once he was finished, he extinguished the light from the lantern and settled into sleep.
He stood a good hour before dawn. His wounded arm was stiff, but he worked on it to use it again. He then underwent a series of stretches and exercises reminiscent of Tai Chi. Hell, they might have been Tai Chi for all that I knew. I watched him strap the sword back to his waist as soon as he was done and put his coat back on. He walked back towards the doors, planning to leave, eating and drinking as he went. He put the water canteen away when he reached the doors. Looking out, he checked the light conditions. There was a high full moon, and the dungeon was surprisingly well-lit.
“Risky but understandable.”
I realised he had planned to use the last hour of darkness to get across the dungeon as fast as possible. He had to go through the maze again and had over a mile to cross before he reached the gates. He could just wait until the sun was up and then make the trip, but it seemed that he wanted to be away from here as soon as he could.
This meant that all three of my last hunters were in play.
He stepped out, drawing his sword, but did not head south, taking the northern path this time.
“Thoughts of mistake you should have gone South.”
Rigger had spent the night preparing to engage the challenger by finding a good ambush spot to the South. Roberson and the Spirit were to the north. The Challenger seemed stiff and sore from the previous day's fighting, but overall, I thought he had a better chance against Roberson than the Spirit.
He moved with the same level of caution as the day before. He pushed through the dungeon maze at a determined pace. He made several wrong turns but quickly entered the Spirit's territory.
To the east, the first hints of sunrise were starting, and the morning chorus of birds was stirring. It had taken him longer than I thought to get here.
It did not take long for her to find him.
The Challenger saw her out of the corner of his eye. In response, he turned to face her, sword ready. She was some distance away and slowly approaching him. I suspect she was using her seduction ability. Looking at the Challenger’s face, I could see it was not working.
He knew something was off and was actively trying to avoid her. I think it was the soft white glow surrounding her, but that could just be me. She was still too far away to rush him. He was moving activity each now, trying to get away from her and to the gates.
By now, she became aware that her seduction ability was not working until she changed tactics. With a hateful scream, she changed and chased after him, transforming into her true form. The challenger took one look at the transformed creature stalking him and turned and ran.
I could not blame him.
He was running along the path that would soon take him out of her hunting territory, but she was faster than he had realised. Glancing over his shoulder, he realised too late that she was upon him as she swiped with her talons. He managed to charge, but not fast enough, taking a nasty wound across the back of his left shoulder.
He cried out in pain and dived over some gravestones, hoping to delay his pursuer. Unfortunately, she was not hindered by such things and kept after him. He was forced to dodge several more strikes from her talons. He managed to get his sword to block another few and was soon finding his footing again.
This only infuriated the spirit more, driving her to more extraordinary acts of violence and speed. By now, the Challenger had realised he was against something he could not fight like the earlier hunters. This brought him to a fighting retreat, as he kept the spirit back to the best of his ability, but he was taking several more light wounds from the talons.
In the distance, the sun was starting to peak from the horizon. Time was now not on the spirit side, and she had to finish him off quickly if she was going to win this one. Another factor came into play much sooner: the limits of a hunting ground. He crossed that boundary without realising it, and she was forced to stop.
The Challenger was backing up still without fully understanding what had just happened, but had realised that the spirit was not following him. He looked at her as she screamed in frustration at him. I didn't think he fully understood, but he knew he had a reprieve when turning and running for the gates.
Roberson had a good idea of where the challenger was now and was moving to intercept him. Rigger was moving along the outer ring pathway, trying to get to the gates, but I didn't think he would be able to get there in time unless Roberson was able to intercept the challenger.
Roberson found him not too far from the place he left the spirit. He stepped out into the pathway, weapons drawn, to face the challenger head-on. The challenger had spotted him but hadn't slowed down, clearly bleeding from many wounds. The one on his back was the most serious and, unless treated soon, would turn life-threatening.
The Challenger was desperate, and in his desperation, he took a terrible gamble. He charged right at my hunter with his sword, ready for a savage strike. Roberson was no fool and shifted his position to meet the blade and turn it aside. As it seemed like the sword would fall, he lifted his blade, but his opponent dropped to his knee, slashing across his legs instead. Roberson collapsed in a cry of pain.
The challenger didn't wait and was on his feet again, running for the gates. Rigger was coming up from the South, and it became a race to see who would make it to the gates first.
The challenge was staggering from blood loss, but he kept up with the beast as best he could.
It was close, but the challenger made it to the gates and was let through before Rigger could reach the courtyard.
When he passed through, the sun's light was on the gates. The sound of a ringing bell came from the church in the heart of my dungeon, indicating that he had completed the dungeon's trial and whatever reward was his declaim.
“Well done, Challenger. You are the third to have passed through my dungeon.”
I wanted to ask him what his reward was, but his condition worsened before me every second.
He struggled to his feet, his weapon ready in case something came out of the dungeon after him. I could summon my avatar and tell him it was over, but I closed the gates instead. When they finally closed, he collapsed to the ground, breathing hard.
There, I left him.
