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"Lord of orcs!" the second-in-command bowed and knelt fearfully. "Me come to… to rep… report our loss against St Caprina! Please spare us! We failed you! We failed you! It's all black wizard's fault!"
The great silver figure astride his mount looked down on the pathetic orc with those demonic eyes. Behind the second-in-command were the survivors of the battle against St Caprina, kneeling with their heads low in shame and fright. They knew that their new lord was someone who would never tolerate a loss, otherwise the punishment that they dreaded would befall them. Every single orc had not forgotten how one of their comrades disintegrated with a slap of Death's great sword.
"You've failed. I already knew when you returned without your commander," Death's cold voice croaked. "Stand up."
The second-in-command refused to budge at first, but after a brief thought, it was wise not to defy whatever he instructed. He gathered himself back to his feet, but with his head still bent low.
"Look at me."
The orc survivors knew their second-in-command would face the unavoidable wrath. A few dared to peek at the sight, their jaws trembling uncontrollably. The only thing they could do for their second-in-command was to pray that his soul would rest in peace.
The second commander slowly lifted his head up and matched the lord's gaze. He suddenly felt drawn into those demonic orbs, an invisible force sucking the life out of him. He desperately extracted his eyes off Death's gleaming eyes, but it was futile for it was transfixed. His insides churned and wriggled violently, forcing it to spill out of his body. The orc's mouth was opened in a silent scream –and degenerated into a pool of green ichor.
Those orc who peeked involuntarily let out a stertorous noise as their second commander was reduced to a mere green pool of liquid. Death reined his steed forward.
"Listen up, the useless lot of you! By failing your first task you have insulted me greatly. I shall tolerate no… such… defeats. All of you shall be given a chance to live, but upon another fault, your chance to prove your worth would be eternally dashed."
The orc survivors bear those words in mind, and saluted Death before returning to their camp. The massive silver knight polished his great sword, readying it for the next group of orcs in case they brought similar news of such disappointment. As he waited for the next batch, his lips moved to mutter something. "The black wizard again..."
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Doppelganger hid himself well in the thick plantations near the orc camp. He had witnessed the Lord of Death's action all these while, a feeling of disdain rising. Death had completely forgotten about him after he stole the Strength Trait, and now he was happily commanding orc forces!
The once cheerful swordsman now turned vicious. His eyes flared a red glow, his mind replaying the scene where the orc commander literally melted with Death's mere gaze. The Strength Trait was a mighty and invaluable possession indeed, but what in he could match against it? Perhaps a slight contact by the sword, and he would be dead. Death's plots became distinct as Doppelganger finally understood why the silver knight ran off in a hurry during his fight with the two sentries.
"Damn you, knight…"
The phantom swordsman continued to watch as another larger batch of orcs reported to the Lord of Death. The warriors genuflected before the great knight just like how the earlier group did, the commander kneeling with most deference at the forefront. Apparently the orc commander had brought forward news of a victory, for Death uttered a short laugh in appreciation. Waving off the orc, the large force returned to their camp. Doppelganger wished he had a Trait, or any other unique abilities that could make him omnipotent. Right now he only wanted to tear the knight to shreds, despite the not-to-be-underestimated Strength Trait. His mind suddenly burned, the battle against the Orc Hero re-surfacing…
"I'm going to kill you, and take your Agility Trait!"
That sentence by the Orc Hero stirred his memories. Why did he mention the Agility Trait? He doubted if he ever heard such a thing. Yes, there was not a mistake about it. The Orc Hero mentioned him possessing so. Come to think about it, if there were Strength Traits and Intelligence Traits, why not an Agility Trait?
The truth started to unravel as he realized his natural ability to do everything extraordinarily fast. Be it a battle, a walk, or whichever task he did, it was definitely not done at a normal pace. It was very likely that the Orc Hero spoke the truth. Doppelganger began to rejoice at the idea. There was something in him that could rival that of the Lord of Death after all! But something bugged him. He did not even know he had the Trait of quickness, so how in the hades did Orc Hero had such knowledge?
Feeling ill at ease, Doppelganger feared that he himself might become an object being hunted down all these while. It was better for him to remain out of everyone's sight after he managed to slay Death.
For quite some time, the swordsman brooded over the best way to confront the Lord of Death. But there was a matter of importance worth taking note of. Whatever he did, no orcs had better interfere. "Yes, I'll assume nothing had happened…"
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"Lord of orcs! I've found you a prisoner!" an orc sentry reported as he pushed the teenage swordsman onto the ground. "Me leave you alone, lord of orcs."
Death waved the sentry away. Chuckling to himself, he picked the swordsman up.
"It is you, Doppelganger."
The blonde swordsman freed himself by snapping open the ball'n'chain effortlessly. The pretentious swordsman tried his best to suppress his fury, putting on the mischievous grin he always did. Most of all, he had to act himself and not leak out even the slightest hint of his true emotions.
"We'll talk right inside the orc dungeon, Doppelganger," Death boomed as his muscles twitched.
Death led the swordsman down the rickety stairway, and further deeper into the stagnant dungeon. Hundreds of orc zombies and the bats clustered about in the mossy dungeon, a foul wave of death and decay reverberating through it.
"You will see nothing of such in level two. I've cleared it out for my usage," the great silver knight explained.
"It's just as foul-smelling. You certainly have a knack for seeking such places," Doppelganger commented.
The legion of undead in the dungeon scattered off at the two superiors' sight, making way for them. The two traversed into the second level of the dungeon with ease; as Death said, this level was indeed free of any sort of demons. And, the decaying odour was not as concentrated as it was in level one. However, those brown, damp walls and decomposing matters still remained. Trickling of water was heard deeper in the dungeon.
"You've done a job worth complimenting. By slaying the orc hero, the orcs would have to submit their fate to us. If you have wishes, I could assign a force at your disposal," Death offered.
'Hah, how generous of you, big knight,' the swordsman thought. And how meticulous was he. Sapping away the Strength Trait, gaining ownership over the orcs and now to make it up for him, a force of useless green-skins was assigned to him? He could stomach this insult no longer.
"I see you've developed yourself quite a bit with that Strength Trait, Death. To think you're so nonchalant about the other affairs," Doppelganger smirked.
"And what would that be, lowly swordsman? I see you've realized only now, haven't you?"
"That affair would be slaying you!"
Doppelganger whipped out his scimitar and scored a hit on Death's right shoulder. The silver knight stood calmly, dismissing the little injury that was almost identical to a chonchon's sting, if not lesser. Chuckling again, he let Doppelganger have his share of fun before he unleashed his true powers.
Leaving himself open for attack, Death's laughter echoed as Doppelganger's attempts to weaken him would eventually prove unfruitful. He basked in the power of the Strength Trait…
Doppelganger gave up physical blows. Extending a palm, he conjured a block of ice to encase the great silver knight. Almost effortlessly, Death stepped out of it unharmed.
"I advise you forget about this unnecessary fight, swordsman. Either you join me in my conquests, or perish and let the great one possess your Agility Trait!"
Screaming in rage, Doppelganger amplified his powers through the popular art in the knighthood, Two-Hand Quicken. His sword arm now working twice as fast as before, he sent a blurry series of slashes at Death's arm, hoping to accomplish both injuring his sword arm and knocking the weapon off him. A large pool of shimmering blood formed underneath Death's feet. The knight's sword arm was critically wounded, not to mention his ribs.
"Hah! You're not as mighty as you seem, big knight!" the shadowy swordsman mocked.
Deciding to end Doppelganger's euphoria and existence, Death had had enough of it. Drawing out his massive silver sword with the uninjured arm, he pointed the blade at the swordsman. A miasma surrounded Doppelganger, causing breathing difficulty and watered his eyes. He felt a portion of his powers diminishing; it was as if the cloud of mist carried it away. He took a test swing with his scimitar –and his speed of attack became slower than his usual by two fold.
"What can you do now, kid? Before I turn nasty forget about this silly fight, and return to the camp."
"Never!" Doppelganger yelled in defiance.
Nullifying his decreased agility with another speed-boosting spell of his own, he raised his scimitar overhead, and gave it a precise downward blow. It could have smashed Death's skull, if he did not sidestep. Yelling again, Doppelganger aimed for those injured ribs. But a metallic foot jammed into his side, knocking the swordsman to the far end of the dungeon. The puddles of water on the floor rose and splattered, the wall dented with the shape of a human following the dramatic crash.
Death looked at his injured arm, then at Doppelganger, as if telling him mentally that he would have to pay for those wounds he inflicted. The great silver knight held the sword with both arms, and slammed the blade onto the ground with all his might he could muster. The ground heaved and rippled, a shockwave smiting Doppelganger squarely in the chest. The force flung him hard into the wall once again, forming the second human-shaped dent.
Due to the immense energy of the shockwave, the ground itself cracked, and splintered apart, creating two platforms. Refusing to admit defeat until the battle has concluded, Doppelganger picked himself up, determined to finish off this knight however powerful he could be.
Grabbing his scimitar, he ran over the chasm to attempt another attack either at the arm, or the ribs. The inertia of his run was too great; he was unable to stop. Without realizing it, he slammed face-first into the raised boot of Death. His scimitar flew off his hands and down the newly formed chasm.
"Damn you, cursed knight," Doppelganger swore.
Death reached a gloved hand to grab the swordsman's hair, hauling him up to stand. The massive tower shield he carried with him materialized onto his bleeding arm.
"Learn to accept defeat, lowly swordsman. Why don't you listen…" Death whispered as he beat down the swordsman with the tower shield.
Blood ran freely down the fallen swordsman's nose, his face swollen with numerous bruises. Yet he still refused to back down. Even without his sword, he could make good use of his magic. Gathering what powers remained in him, Doppelganger summoned a cloud of darkness right in Death's face, blinding him temporarily. Death swiped his sword randomly, but none of it touched the swordsman. Doppelganger took advantage of the knight's temporary disability and created a blizzard. Shards of ice blasted randomly around Death, the freezing explosion scraping the places where his skin was exposed. Apparently, his armour was severely damaged too.
The swordsman wished he had his scimitar with him right now. Shaking off the temptation to retrieve his sword, Doppelganger produced a wave of darkness, sweeping Death backwards. He wanted him to be driven into a corner. With the blizzard concluded, his powers failed him. Weakness and dizziness assailed him, the vicious attacks made by Death debilitated him. The determination that fuelled him vanished.
Doppelganger looked up to see no one. This was it, he thought. He waited for a sword to pierce him from behind, but nothing came. It was a mistake to summon a blizzard after all, for the confusion gave the Lord of Death ample time to recover from his blindness and set him up.
"Get out! Stop hiding like a coward!" the blonde swordsman screamed as he summoned a pillar of green energy to rejuvenate himself thoroughly.
Feeling his exhaustion replaced with renewed vitality, Doppelganger cautiously scoured the area for the hidden knight. Given his size, it was baffling how he could remain unseen. Unless… he was below the chasm.
He edged towards the opening. With an offensive spell prepared on his lips, he dared a look down it. A flash of silver came across, then a curved blade buried deep into the swordsman's left shoulder, the tip of the blade protruding out of his back. Death had used the swordsman's very own scimitar to inflict a major wound. The silver knight released his hold on the hilt as Doppelganger fell backwards.
"I've warned you to forget about this fight. You have yourself to blame now," Death said his last piece, sheathing his great sword. He looked with disdain at the limp form, and stalked off with the look of an undying pride.
"No… not quite yet," a young, but strangled voice sounded immediately behind him when he walked up to the first level.
A scimitar plunged through his grand armour all the way until the curved blade protruded out of Death's upper chest. The great silver knight roared as the demonic fluid spurted out of the macabre wound. Grabbing the portion of the blade jutting out of his chest, he snapped it into two halves. Death spun around and gave the swordsman a toe kick. Doppelganger went careening several feet, crashing through a beam. Unfortunately for him, the impact aggravated his grave wound in his shoulder. He writhed in pain, but the satisfaction of his successful hit on the silver knight's chest somewhat gave him a bittersweet feeling.
A monstrous neigh brought him scrambling to his feet once more, with much effort than he had expected. Silver, Death's steed, neighed again as it glared at the swordsman with those beady red eyes. Raising its forelegs, it began a charge at him. Silver galloped faster and faster, the wind rushing madly behind it. It's hooves were about to strike him hard, then a wave of darkness countered the charge. Silver fell on its side, the gleam in the eyes faded.
"Silver!"
The infuriated Lord of Death staggered into level two, the great sword and the tower shield in each hand.
"Stay down, for good!"
The atmosphere was electrified, when both severely wounded superiors struggled to battle it out with their last ounce of strength. Gathering all that he has got, Death gritted his teeth against the excruciating pain to create yet another shockwave with his great sword. Doppelganger seemed to be impervious to the powerful force as the impertinent swordsman advanced through it.
Putting the duplicating move into use again, Doppelganger ran around the knight at ghostly speed until he became a swirling greyness. The number of Doppelganger decoys multiplied as he ran faster, hoping in vain that this could confuse Death. The silver knight merely stood clutching his chest in a hunch, planting his blade into the ground to support himself.
"ENOUGH!" Death bellowed with such fervour that it seemed to sent the very foundation of the dungeon vibrating.
Laying the tower shield on the ground, Death extracted the great shimmering sword –and slammed it against the shield with what strength still remaining within him, summoning the entire Strength Trait to lend him additional might. A blinding white light flared into life, a deafening screech piercing even the toughest armour. Deep rumblings was followed by a sound of the ground cracking to form more chasms. A series of shockwaves, each twice as destructive as the next, sent pillars and even the ceiling toppling.
In the middle of it all, a large crater with a depth that one could not see the base was formed. The last Death saw, all decoys, probably including Doppelganger himself, disappearing beneath the crater that looked like it connected to the abyss. The scent of a superior was gone. The decayed odour was gone too. What lingered around were the smell of granite and cement.
Death glanced downwards to look what was left at his feet. His sword and his shield had become scraps of waste metal, the two equipments sacrificed to create such deadly effect. He staggered with agony to the edge of the crater to find a scimitar dangling at the edge of the deep, dark hole.