Dragon Warrior

Chapter 2: Armoured Ones

The air crackled with chaotic energy, a volatile storm brewing, a palpable sense of impending doom settling over the scene.

"Hmph... I arrived uninvited, and I depart as I see fit. Can you prevent me?" Drakon's arrogance was a tangible thing, a challenge thrown into the teeth of the gathering storm.

"The path is open to all. Why would we obstruct your passage?" a voice replied, smooth as polished obsidian.

"Lies!" Blackfang snarled, his fury a palpable thing. But before he could unleash his own power, a massive, ancient black iron chain, impossibly swift, descended from the gnarled branches of an ancient tree, a dark streak against the dim moonlight, slamming into the earth with earth-shattering force.

For a heartbeat, the shadow of the chain threatened to engulf Blackfang, but the villain's triumph was fleeting. With impossible speed, Blackfang vanished from the path of the descending weapon.

"Raaargh!"

The massive iron chain, forged of impossibly strong metal, its links thick as a man's torso, ended in a wickedly barbed point. It slammed into the very rock where Blackfang had stood moments before, shattering the stone and sending fragments flying. The impact drove the chain's tip a full meter into the solid rock, its terrifying momentum finally grinding to a shuddering halt.

"Hmm, not bad," the masked figure's voice echoed, his presence revealed as he stepped from behind the chain—a tall, dark silhouette perched atop the ancient cypress. His bloodshot eyes, devoid of emotion, radiated chilling malice.

Blackfang, without hesitation, charged, his movements fluid and precise as he traversed the taut chain—one end embedded deep in the rock, the other held by the masked man.

"Foolish feline," the masked man sneered, yanking the chain with brutal force. "You won't reach me so easily." The massive weapon tore free from the stone, whirling through the air towards Blackfang's back.

"Blackfang, watch out!" Drakon shouted from below, his eyes glued to the unfolding battle.

The chain momentarily slackened, disrupting Blackfang's momentum. Before he could react, the deadly weapon whipped towards him with terrifying speed.

"Too… fast…" Blackfang gasped, executing a breathtaking aerial maneuver to avoid the fatal blow.

"Cat's Claw!" His counterattack was instantaneous, a devastating blow aimed at the cypress tree where the masked figure was hidden.

Blackfang unleashed his power—a torrent of sacred, mystical energy erupted from his claws, forming razor-sharp crescent blades that converged on the masked man.

"Is that all you've got, feline?" the masked man scoffed, his movements too swift to follow as he manipulated the massive chain. Only its mesmerizing dance under the moonlight betrayed the speed and precision of his control, coiling and recoiling in concentric layers. The chain absorbed Blackfang's attack, drawing the energy into its vortex, the clash of weapons erupting in a shower of crimson sparks against the stormy night.

The masked figure's laughter, a chilling echo in the ravaged landscape, held a cruel undercurrent of triumph. "A cat's claw is impressive, but against my mace, it's mere kitten's play... Ha...ha...ha..." His words, dripping with contempt, were a hammer blow to Blackfang's pride, a stark reminder of the overwhelming power arrayed against them. Would Blackfang and Drakon, lost in this hostile wilderness, find the strength to overcome this terrifying, unknown hermit? Their struggle, barely begun, felt already insurmountable.

The masked figure, a whirlwind of brutal efficiency, had transformed the area into a chaotic wasteland in mere moments. Yet, amidst the shattered rock and pulverized earth, Blackfang remained defiant. His fiery aura, a tangible manifestation of his indomitable spirit, burned bright against the encroaching darkness, a beacon of rebellion against the overwhelming odds. The hermit's power was immense, but Blackfang's resolve was equally fierce, his hunger for the fight undiminished.

"Hmph, regardless of your strength, never underestimate your opponent!" Blackfang roared, his fury fueling his reckless charge.

"Blackfang, wait! Don't rush in!" Drakon shouted, arms outstretched to restrain his enraged comrade. His sharp gaze remained fixed on the masked figure, a faint, knowing smile playing on his lips. "If I'm not mistaken, that iron mace is one of the Ten Infernal Artifacts?"

The masked figure's laughter was a cruel prelude to violence. "Ha...ha... You seem knowledgeable. What will your last thoughts be as my mace crushes you?" His words, dripping with sadistic amusement, hung heavy in the air, the tension palpable as the final confrontation loomed.

"So, we're facing the infamous Killer, are we?" Drakon remarked calmly, his arrogance unshaken. He ignored the masked man's taunt, choosing instead to pose a question of his own.

A burst of arrogant laughter filled the air. "Ha...ha...ha... My reputation precedes me, it seems. Yes, I am Killer. A killer who needs no effort. Against weaklings like you, this mace is all I need. I stand still, and the artifact does the work."

Drakon's tone remained unwavering. "Impressive... impressive... But if I recall correctly, this is the territory of the Armoured Ones, is it not?"

Killer reveled in the recognition, his ego inflated by Drakon's acknowledgment of his infamous name. The knowledge that his opponent knew who he was, far from causing alarm, only fueled his smug self-satisfaction. He answered readily, his arrogance blinding him to the potential danger of such open boasting.