Shadow Slave: Divergence of Hereos

Chapter 4: A small bet 

"You're not going to last five seconds in the Nightmare Realm if this is how you fight. It's pathetic."

That word hit harder than any attack. Anger and frustration boiled inside him. He was trying—really trying—but Mori countered every move with ease.

"Then show me!" he shouted, the words spilling out in desperation. "Teach me how to actually fight!"

Mori's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, he thought he'd gone too far. But then, Mori smirked. "Alright," he said calmly. "You want to learn? Let's make this interesting."

Mori slammed his staff into the ground, the sound reverberating like thunder. The air in the cave shifted, growing oppressive. He wanted to run, but his legs wouldn't move.

"If you can land one hit on me—just one—I'll teach you," Mori said, eyes gleaming with a dangerous light. 

He swallowed hard, gripping the staff as the weight of the challenge set in. 

"Good luck," Mori added with a grin before vanishing again.

…

I don't know how long it's been. Minutes? Hours? Time blurred into an endless stretch of exhaustion and failure.

Mori had stopped talking entirely, focusing instead on teaching me a lesson with every swing of his staff. 

Each attack was precise, almost surgical in how it chipped away at my resolve. Every time I thought I saw an opening, he was already a step ahead, moving with the ease of someone who had mastered the battlefield long before I was even born.

I couldn't even count how many times I'd hit the ground. 

My muscles screamed in protest, my breaths shallow and ragged. Every inch of my body ached. But he didn't stop. Mori just kept going, and I… I couldn't quit.

Somewhere in the chaos of it all, I lost track of everything—time, space, the number of bruises. 

All that mattered was the next step, the next move. My staff felt like an extension of my arms now, though clumsy compared to his effortless grace.

*Clang!*

I managed to block another blow, barely, my arms trembling under the force. My knees buckled, but I stayed on my feet. 

I couldn't even feel my legs anymore. Everything had gone numb hours ago.

"You're… still here," Mori remarked, sounding almost surprised. 

His expression didn't change much, but there was a flicker of something—acknowledgment, maybe? 

I couldn't be sure. But I didn't have time to think about it as he swung again, this time faster.

I barely managed to duck under the arc of his staff, the rush of air from the blow sending a chill down my spine. 

The stone floor was slick with sweat, and my hands were raw from gripping the staff for so long. My head pounded, and my body screamed for rest, but I refused to give in.

I couldn't stop now. Not when I was still standing.

"Persistent, I'll give you that," Mori muttered, his golden eyes gleaming in the dim light of the cave. His strikes never faltered, his movements as fluid as they were hours ago. 

Meanwhile, I was running on fumes, the only thing keeping me upright being sheer willpower.

Another strike came from above. 

I raised my staff in a feeble attempt to block, but the impact sent me crashing to the ground once again. My body hit the floor with a dull thud, the wind knocked out of my lungs. 

How long has it been? The thought crossed my mind again, but there was no point in asking.

I'd lost track after the first dozen blows. It felt like we'd been at this for days, but it was hard to know when you were being relentlessly beaten down.

I struggled to stand, my arms shaking as I pushed myself off the cold stone. My vision blurred from exhaustion. 

My body begged me to quit, to just let it end. But I couldn't. Not after coming this far.

Mori sighed, his staff resting on his shoulders as he glanced down at me. "You really don't know when to give up, do you?"

I spat out a mouthful of dirt, forcing myself to my feet. "Y-You said… if I hit you... you'd teach me."

Mori's eyebrow twitched. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, though his eyes remained sharp, watching my every move. "That I did. But you haven't even come close."

He was right, of course. I hadn't. I couldn't even land a single hit, let alone touch him. But I wasn't dead yet. There was still a chance. 

I gritted my teeth and tightened my grip on the staff. 

The cold, jagged floor of the cave seemed to pulse beneath me, my exhaustion threatening to swallow me whole. 

I couldn't think about how long we'd been going. I just needed to survive this moment.

...

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