The laughter ended now it was time to fight with the Camacho siblings holding a worn out blade that by calculation only 68 hits left it was his only choice unless if he wants to die again.
Bodies continued to fall, the ring absorbing blood as if it had been craving it all along. Amidst the chaos, three figures stood out: one awkwardly wielding a blade that felt foreign in his grip, while the other two moved like shadows dancing in the breeze.
Soren tightened his hold on the stolen blade, his knuckles turning white from the strain. Opposite him, the twins prowled like hungry predators, their blades shimmering like sharp teeth.
Vincente was already cracking his neck, a wild grin spreading across his face.
"Don't worry, we'll take turns."
Catalina shot him a playful wink.
"We'll even try to keep your face intact. Maybe."
The first strike came at lightning speed, nearly taking Soren's head clean off.
Steel clashed as Soren instinctively jerked back, the blade slicing through the air just where his jaw had been a heartbeat before. He stumbled, barely regaining his balance, and swung wildly in response
CLANG!
His sword met the female twin's with a jarring impact that shot up his arms like a bolt of electricity. It felt like hitting solid steel with a pipe. She effortlessly danced away, hardly breaking a sweat.
"You swing like you're chopping vegetables."
"That's an insult to vegetables," Vincente quipped.
They charged at him together one low, one high. Soren had no real technique, just raw instinct. He dropped, twisted, and blocked with the flat of his blade. He got lucky again just a heartbeat too slow, but his opponent didn't take advantage.
Not yet.
I'm not quick enough, he thought. Not skilled. Not trained. I can barely
He ducked another swing but stumbled. He went down. Vincente raised his sword. The sister lunged forward. Soren kicked up dust as he rolled away, his sword flailing in the air, just grazing the girl's wrist. She laughed.
"You're lucky. But not good."
"There's a big difference."
Soren forced himself to sit up straight, his sword trembling in his grip.
I can't take them on directly.
They're quick, in sync, and well-trained. I'm just reacting to their moves.
So he stopped swinging. He took a step back.
Watched.
Waited.
They came at him again slowly, casually, almost mocking. The girl moved around behind him while her brother kept Soren occupied. Soren didn't glance back. Instead, he shifted to the left. Without looking. And her blade barely missed his ribs. Then he turned, swinging wide.
A hit! Not a clean one, not deep but it sliced across her shoulder. She hissed, her expression shifting to something sharper than just amusement.
"Okay. That stung."
Vincente lunged.
CLASH!
Blade met blade, this time with full force. Soren's arms screamed in agony. He dropped to one knee but managed to block the strike. Then he pushed forward.
Headbutt.
The twin staggered back. Soren leaped away, his chest heaving.
"Sloppy," Vincente muttered, rubbing his forehead. "But it worked."
The twins suddenly turned serious. Their playful banter came to a halt. Now, there was just silence. A chill in the air. All business. Soren felt his breath slipping away. His arms were on fire. His fingers were cramping around the sword hilt. It felt all wrong the blade dragged in his grip as if it were meant for someone else.
He didn't evade the next strike. A slash tore across his thigh. He let out a cry and fell again. Blood flowed. His breath hitched. But he pushed himself back up. He stepped back, swinging his sword just to create some distance.
The male twin hurled a knife. Soren lifted the sword, but it was too late
Thunk.
The blade lodged into his shoulder.
Move, he urged himself.
MOVE.
Soren feinted to the right, and the female twin mirrored his move. Then, with a quick twist to the left, he stepped past her, pushing through the pain, and swung his sword back in a wild arc
The blade grazed the back of her calf, causing her to stumble. He didn't stop; he kept moving. Behind him, he heard the Vincente shout. Soren turned, but it was too late. A punch landed hard in his side, knocking the breath out of him. The sword slipped from his grasp.
He fell.
With a knee pressing into his back and a blade poised at his neck, he felt the weight of defeat. "You're done," Vincente declared.
But then he heard the Catalina cough behind him.
"Wait. Don't kill him. I want to do it myself."
She limped closer. Vincente hesitated for just a moment. That split second was all Soren needed.
He twisted around, snatched his sword, and swung wildly. The twins recoiled in surprise. Soren rolled away. Blood streamed from his shoulder, and his knee throbbed painfully. But now, he had space to breathe again.
The three of them stood apart, breathing heavily, each one nursing their wounds. Their eyes were locked onto one another, tension thick in the air. The twins exchanged grins, but there was a shift in the atmosphere. Soren wasn't just flailing around anymore; he was focused, observing, and ready to adapt. They could sense the change in him.
"Next exchange," Vincente murmured, "we finish this."
"Good," Soren shot back, "I was getting tired of missing."