Agrippa’s vision suddenly went partially black, the left side of his face blazing with pain. His strike was jerked totally off course, crashing into the ground and shattering the earth with a massive BOOM. He staggered backward, waving the halberd around in confused agony. As Agrippa’s mind struggled to process this new development, Adama slipped into his blind spot. The swordsman stabbed at the man’s exposed left side, aiming for the heart. A last second twitch by Agrippa brought the attack into his armpit instead. Hearthblade sheared through the bottom of Agrippa’s left shoulder, crippling the arm.

  Things weren’t all sunshine, though. Agrippa’s instincts brought his foot up in a powerful kick, forcing Adama to withdraw his sword and take the kick on the flat of his blade. The force sent him rocketing backward, and Adama’s moment of weakness was enough for the Berserker to regain the initiative. With another angry roar, Agrippa Flash Stepped toward the flying swordsman, swinging the halberd as hard as he could with only his right arm. The swordsman managed to catch the attack with Hearthblade but was unable to brace himself on the ground.

  Adama felt his arms break, the force of the hit catapulting him horizontally through the air and knocking the ivory blade out of his hands. He bounced across the dirt, feeling each impact in his bones. The shadow of death was on his back, and Adama felt rather than saw Agrippa chasing him down as he flew. Another Flash Step would finish Adama off, but Agrippa’s endurance was reaching its limits. Even in his crazed, pain addled state the big man knew that another usage of the skill in his Berserker form would break him.

  Everyone watched as the large crimson man chased down the flying adventurer. The Elves and Adama’s party were watching from the woods, and the High Elf King was already shaking his head. Adama had been so close, yet it looked like he would fall here. A tragic end, but the king’s elites were standing by. Perhaps they could assassinate Agrippa when his Berserk form wore off.

  Naaza and Emily had gone pale, faces contorted with worry and fear as they watched their leader get chased down. Lilli maintained a stoic expression, trying to will Adama back into the fight, but her face had lost its color as well. All Adama’s allies felt their hearts sink as they watched him ragdoll helplessly, his enemy drawing near.

  Then, Adama made his final gambit.

  He managed to right himself in midair, then strike at the ground with both feet. Adama propelled himself away from Agrippa diagonally through the air, keeping himself out of attack range for a few heartbeats more. To Agrippa’s blood drenched mind, this was the last gasp of desperate prey. He carefully tracked Adama’s movements, preparing to leap after him. Then suddenly, Agrippa could no longer see the enemy.

  The morning sun was low on the horizon, but it had grown bright enough to temporarily obscure the Adama’s movements as he passed across it. Agrippa’s face flashed with confusion for a single moment, the big man struggling to process this new development.

  Before everything went black.

  Agrippa screamed as another Hidden Blade passed into his remaining eye. Adama’s forearms were broken, but his shoulders were still functional. Adama had fought through the pain and thrown the blade the second he knew his movements were obscured. The invisible projectile was impossible to track in the sunlight. The blade shattered on contact due to Agrippa’s high defense, but that only made the ocular damage more complete. Totally blind, Agrippa now staggered around aimlessly, waving his weapon in anger and fear. Adama landed safety out of his range, but Agrippa’s ears picked up on the sound. In a final act of desperation, he threw his halberd.

  Adama saw the move coming from a mile away. He dodged the moment his feet hit the ground, the weapon hurtling harmlessly into the forest. Adama conjured a third blade, watching as Agrippa’s Berserk skill finally began to wear off. Calmly, the swordsman began a chant:

  “Hear the song of a faraway land, a dance of a thousand blades…”

  Agrippa let out a final roar as he charged toward the voice, never giving up until the very end. He was a pathetic sight, speed so reduced by exhaustion that he had no chance of reaching the swordsman. The duel was theoretically to death or surrender, but everyone knew the truth. No surrender would be offered. The warriors of the Empire were simply too proud. Adama gave a final nod of respect to a worthy opponent, throwing his blade at Agrippa’s face:

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  “Endless Sword”

  The invisible blade detonated, and Agrippa fell, never to move again.

  …

  Everyone was silent the moment after Agrippa’s death, stunned at the swift reversal of fortune. Even Adama was a little discombobulated in the wake of the fight. He’d been confident in his skills going into the match, certain he could handle Agrippa’s known abilities and any trump cards he may have. However, the anti-magic had been such a strong trump card that it had almost turned the tables. Adama would have had a much easier time in that fight if he were able to use a limited Endless Sword to deflect his enemy’s attacks.

  Still, Adama remained outwardly unruffled as he drew out a potion, popped the cork, and downed its contents. He casually walked over to the fallen Hearthblade, scooping up the weapon and pointing it at Octavian:

  “Battle’s over. I’ll hold up my end of the bargain if you do yours.”

  Adama watched as the man’s face turn purple with fury. Octavian opened his mouth, doubtless to double cross him and call for his arrest. He never even got the chance before he blew up.

  Adama had never believed the enemy commander would honor his word. The whole point of this entire exercise had been to earn himself a bout with Agrippa. Now that Adama had defeated the Level 4, he had technically completed his agreement with the elves. He’d never guaranteed to his new allies that the enemy would retreat after he won. His plan had never hinged upon the Empire honoring their agreement and running away.

  That said, it would be more convenient for Adama if they did retreat. Turning the Empire away from the High Elves would cement the forest dwellers as his allies. This would, in turn, ensure a stable future supply of the Maximum Purity Tree Sap. One never knew when that kind of thing would come in handy, especially since curing Hestia once wouldn’t end the threat of the god slaying assassins.

  To make that happen, he wanted some insurance. Adama had encouraged the High Elves to attend the duel in hiding. He had chosen to hold the duel near the edge of the forest to make that easier. The explosives had been Naaza’s idea. The elves hadn’t historically been interested in the art of Mixing, beyond the creation of medicines. Naaza had introduced them to the art of explosive arrow creation, and the elves were fast learners. In just a few hours, the group had brewed a respectable number. They were low quality but made for quite a spectacle when unleashed all at once.

  In the chaos, Adama slipped away. His job here was done.

  Later in the day, the remaining Imperial generals met to discuss their options. The death of Agrippa had been a powerful blow to their combat capabilities, made all the worse by the fact that Adama was still alive and presumably willing to fight for the Elves. As if that weren’t bad enough, the Elves had also acquired explosive arrows, a fact that further tipped the scales in favor of the enemy. The death of commander Octavian was a comparatively minor thing, since the man was nothing special from a military planning perspective, but this entire adventure had been his family’s brainchild. Many of the generals had been suspicious of the military operation from the start, and they now had the perfect excuse to abandon the foolhardy venture.

  The red-and-gold banner, depicting a massive lion mid pounce, turned around and left for Imperial lands. The rest of the army followed suit.

  …

  The elven victory party was something to behold.

  For a people who had a reputation for being uptight, they sure knew how to let down their hair when they wanted to. Strings of orange and white magical lights had been hung from the branches of the trees overhead. Numerous tables had been laid out with a grand spread, entirely vegetarian yet uniformly delicious. At the beginning of the celebration, every other elf had pulled out some kind of musical instrument and begun to play a soaring tune of celebration. Fiddles, harps, flutes, and even tambourines melded together in a perfect symphony, and the elves who hadn’t brought out instruments sang along. The girls of Adama’s party sang along with the tune as well, even as the swordsman elected to dig into the food instead. He had always preferred painting to music anyways.

  After the opening singing, many of the elves continued playing their instruments in a new song as the others sat down to dig in and talk. The elves were surprisingly gregarious towards their new allies, some talking animatedly with Naaza about Mixing and others discussing some of the finer points of magic with Emi. At some point, a blushing Theresa had come over to Adama, accompanied by her mother Lana. Both female elves offered him a formal apology for their rude behavior, which he accepted with a nonchalant wave and a “forget about it”. At one-point Adama caught the eye of Valar, the blue-eyed elf who had had arrested him and been subsequently clobbered by Adama at the war council. He gave Adama a stoic nod, which the human reciprocated. No hard feelings there either.

  The party went long into the night, with copious amounts of dancing, singing, and drinking. Eventually, King Larfal needed to call for more wine, which was quickly fetched by the servers.

  However, Adama noticed something strange. He’d thought he’d seen a dozen servers go to retrieve new wine, but he could’ve sworn that thirteen returned with the bottles. The server for their table swiftly placed down goblets of the sweet purple liquid in front of all of them, not a hint of hesitation in his movements. Yet, as he scrutinized the elf, Adama felt that something was off. His natural danger sense reacted as he watched Emi grab a goblet and raise it to her lips. Quick as a snake, he reached out and smacked it out of her hands:

  “Don’t drink the wine!”

  Emi was visibly startled, but Adama was already looking at the others. Lilli gazed at him questioningly, putting down her untouched goblet in obedient reflex. Before his eyes could move on from her, Adama heard the crash. Naaza had dropped her goblet and collapsed from the bench onto the ground. Even as Adama moved to assist her, his eyes were scanning for their server.

  He needn’t have bothered. The ‘elf’ had already disappeared.