Heroes to Hunted

Chapter 107 Sato Vs Vincent, Part Three

?The tinge of metal was palpable as I stuffed yet another gulp of stale air down my gullet.

My heart beat against my ribcage with the force of a stampeding herd, and anticipation soaked my body in a sheet of sweat as I awaited Vincent's next move.  The slightest twitch of his finger or step forward would signal the beginning of my plan's phase two.

'C'mon,' I glowered at Vincent. 'Take a step. Make a move.'

Vincent stared at me with an expression of curious intrigue, his eyes alight with an intense fascination. "Your eyes... They're filled with desperation, Sir Sato. The desperation of one who clings to hope as he struggles against the inevitable, all to achieve his goals."

"In a way," he continued, his voice laced with a hint of nostalgia, "your eyes remind me of a hero from centuries past. A man of great infamy in your world. Apparently, he even sought to unify an entire country. Truly an intriguing one."

I brandished my knives, a mocking smile twisting my lips. "You plan to tell me a story now? It seems out of place for a duel, don't you think?"

Vincent chuckled at my provocation, his smile restrained. "Perhaps you're right," he said. "I suppose I can't help myself from mentioning him; he was quite a fascinating fellow, after all."

"His ambitions were like flames, consuming all in their path. His aspirations were a web of lightning against a sky darkened by opposition. They chaotically stretched across the world, intending to envelop it in their deadly luminance. He was a man desperate to conjoin a world torn apart by division."

Vincent's eyes lost focus momentarily as if gazing backward through the abyss of time. "His brutality. His mercilessness. His unforgiving fury for those that opposed him..."

He sighed, then returned his sights to mine. "I must confess, that man opened my eyes to the true nature of your kind. Because of him, I realized there are wolves amongst you sheep. Threats to the world beyond anything I could ever imagine. He was truly a man that harbored my deepest respects."

Vincent's genuine fascination was infectious, and even I felt the tug of curiosity pulling at my consciousness, wanting to lift the veil surrounding the identity of the hero he spoke of with such an ominous tone.

However, time was short, and I had an order to complete. Chuckling in dismissal, I said, "Well, I hope to live up to those standards."

Vincent returned to the present with a renewed grin. "Sir, you won't be living at all. But I'll praise you for the effort." With that, he darted forward, his hand raised for another bone-shattering blow.

My adrenaline-fueled reactions kicked in, and I raced toward the open cell furthest from Joseph as Vincent took his first step.

Our footfalls echoed through the dungeon, mine heavy from exhaustion while Vincent's were light as a prowling hound. His looming, predatory aura hung over me like a shroud, sending chills down my spine with every step he took closer.

We arrived at the space quickly, but the instinctive fear I felt from his presence extended what was a brief moment to a short eternity of dread.

My heels scraped against the floor, feeling the shift from smooth wood planks to hardened stone as I entered the cell. Then, upon shifting my body with a pivot, I confronted Vincent, whose hand was already horizontally slashing through the air with the precision of a honed blade.

I leaped backward to dodge. Thanks to my quick efforts, I dampened the blow to my ribs. However, Vincent's palm still struck my side, sending a shockwave throughout my insides.

'Ah, fuck,' my face twisted from the pain as I struggled to maintain my posture. Yet, though I was injured, the distinct reassuring presence of confidence filled my core.

"You're quite a crafty one, Sir!" Vincent thrust his fist forward to punch following his declaration. Upon my evasion, he stepped back and said, "I suppose you believe a tight space would obstruct me, correct?"

Vincent was spot on. A tight space, like this cell, would limit his movements. The same area used to lock prisoners from the world would lock Vincent and me in close-quarters combat.

"Well, I guess you found me out," is what I said, but his assertion was only half right. While offsetting his agility was a goal, my true intentions lay elsewhere.

Now, I had one job.

Yet, despite its simplicity, this next portion of the plan would prove the most challenging. A single word summed it up. A word that is so easily uttered but nearly impossible to practice: survive.

There was no point in nervousness, so I shrugged and masked my pained expression with a smile. My gut still reeled from the blunt, burning sensation at my side as it swelled purple.

"At least you attempted your best..." Vincent smiled, then charged forward, unleashing a volley of blows directed toward my vital areas.

I brushed closely with death during the skirmish. Despite my best efforts to evade and redirect his attacks with my knives and evasive maneuvering, some inevitably landed.

Plus, if the enlarged swelling from his first strike was anything to consider, it seemed like the effects of the red potion had long worn off. With the healing gone, I knew there would be no more second chances.

Any wound I received from hereon would be here to stay.

In addition, his missed strikes pounded the stone-brick walls and wooden supports within the cell, releasing clouds of finely particularized dust that thickly caked the air.

"How unfortunate!" Vincent exclaimed while swinging a leg toward me for a powerful kick. "My suit was dirtied, after all!"

"I know, what a travesty!" I scoffed and escaped his strike.

He laughed, then attacked again. I replied with a duck and sidestepped from his thrusting fist, lacerating his flesh with my knives as I went. Then, I impaled a blade into his arm and pulled him forward, tearing it out as I did so.

With his back exposed and assuming his muscle composition was the same as a human's, I sliced both of his Achilles heels. A blackened ooze poured forth from his ankles.

My gambit paid off as Vincent's legs involuntarily buckled to the floor.

"You've immobilized me?" Vincent said, his tone obvious with intrigue. "A fair tactic. However," he swiveled around, waving his cane in a speedy, lethal arc, "you're mistaken if you believe that sufficient for a victory!"

He swung around, cutting clean through anything in his cane's path. Shockingly to Vincent, that path was only empty space. I was already out of the cell, seeing my plan to its fruition.

"Sir?" he quizzically tilted his head. "Did you flee?"

I answered his question by stepping back into view and holding a lone, lit lantern. It was the one that had flown off from the busted pillar. I grasped the cold metal of the curved handle as it swung like a pendulum, dangling from my right arm.

"A lantern? Might I inquire what you're doing?" Vincent nonchalantly asked while standing in a room flooded with dust, his legs and arm fully healed.

"Finishing this," I replied with narrowed eyes, then smashed the lantern against the prison cell bars. The glass and thin iron banding shattered in half, catapulting the flame-bearing bottom end into the dust-filled room.

My heels promptly twisted as I dove behind a wall and ducked my head. The lantern's metal bottom clattered against the stone floor several times, echoing throughout the cell.

"Well played," were Vincent's final words as the air caught fire.

The stone enclosure of the prison cell became a gas oven, overflowing with heat as it consumed his red-cloth-clad body in a roaring blaze.

The conflagration burst forth from between the prison bars, exploding outward and searing everything in its wake. The very foundations of the homestead rumbled from the blast.

The intense heat bombarded my skin, scorching the surface and leaving behind a slight burning sensation as the fiery torrent swept past me.

When the swelter of fire dissipated, I lay motionless on the hardwood floor, shocked, pained, and ecstatic.

For the first time in all my years of battle, I felt a sensation I never thought I'd have.

I straightened up, feeling a warm sense of satisfaction flow through me. The weight that had been pressing down on my shoulders lifted, and I took a deep breath to savor the feeling of victory. Finally, I thought to myself, 'I won... I fucking won!'

However, that pride was short-lived as I heard the faint rustling of movement from amongst the ashes.

'Is he...it can't be!'