[HP minus 30%.]
[70% remaining.]
Pain erupted in Devon's side, His muscles screamed, taut and trembling, as if each fiber had been scorched by fire.
His chest heaved, lungs clawing for breath, His legs quivered, threatening to collapse, but he gritted his teeth, gripping his sword's hilt until his knuckles whitened, anchoring himself against the relentless throb of agony.
'So I have health points now?' he thought, his mind reeling, grappling with the strange reality that now shaped his world.
A calm, disembodied voice responded, cutting through the chaos like a blade. 'Yes, Devon. Health bars were initiated when the quests began.'
Before he could process the words, the Executioner, a towering, scarred brute with a sweat-slicked face, lunged forward.
His double-edged axe sliced through the air with a menacing hum, swung with the precision of a puppet driven by an unseen hand. His cracked voice bellowed, "Kill! Kill!" a mindless chant that he disturbed the ears of everyone within a few meters around.
Devon's instincts surged, his body moving before his mind could catch up.
He dove to the side, the rough stone scraping his palms raw as he rolled, snatching his sword from its scabbard. He sprang to his feet, stance firm despite the fire in his side.
"Stand down," he shouted, his voice sharp and resonant, slicing through the crowd's tense murmurs. "Do it, and I'll make sure you get one meal a day in a cell for the rest of your miserable life."
The Executioner only growled, his eyes blazing with feral rage, and charged again, his heavy boots thudding the platform like an earthquake.
Devon swayed left, the axe whistling past his ear, its force sending a tremor through the air. The blade crashed into the ground, splintering stone and spraying shards that stung Devon's cheek like tiny daggers.
He spun toward the chieftains perched on the platform's edge, their faces etched with fear and calculation.
"Tell this knave to stand down," Devon snapped, his voice thick with exasperation, his gaze darting between their guarded expressions, "before I carve an example out of him!"
No response came, only the Executioner's ragged, heaving breaths as he charged again, his axe arcing through the air with deadly intent.
Devon raised his sword, the clash of steel ringing out like a war cry, the impact jolting his arms and numbing his fingers.
Sparks flared, illuminating the crowd's wide-eyed faces, their breaths held in the stifling heat.
The battle became a turbulence of violence.
Devon ducked, rolled, and parried, his movements fluid yet desperate, each motion a defiance of the pain searing his side.
The Executioner's raw power was a relentless storm, each swing of his axe a thunderclap threatening to shatter Devon's defenses.
Their blades sang a deadly rhythm, clang, sweep, crash—each note echoing through the dust-choked air, the crowd's gasps a distant chorus.
Seizing a fleeting opening, Devon spun beneath a wild horizontal slash, his sword dragging across the Executioner's thigh.
Blood sprayed, warm and slick, splattering the stone in crimson streaks.
The giant roared, his axe smashing a nearby column into rubble, the dust stinging Devon's eyes and clogging his throat.
Through the haze, he felt it his moment.
He stepped forward, eyes narrowing to slits, his heart pounding like a drum of war.
His right fist clenched, muscles burning with a strange, electric energy. A Message hit his mind, urgent and urging him to act. Without hesitation, he struck.
"Gackling Punch!" The words tore from his lips, raw and unbidden, as his fist slammed into the Executioner's chest.
[New Skill unlocked: Gackling Punch.]
A concussive blast ripped through the air, its thuds loud as the impact landed on the executioner.
The ground cracked beneath the brute's staggering bulk, his masked face twisting in shock, his breath hitching.
Devon planted his feet, his chest heaving, and charged again.
The Executioner met him, his axe slicing through the air with a shrill whistle.
Devon sidestepped, barely, the blade crashing into the ground, sending stone shards flying like shrapnel.
One grazed his arm, a sharp bite of pain. He twisted, his sword flashing upward toward the Executioner's ribs.
Metal clanged as the brute blocked with his gauntlet, retaliating with a backhand that sent Devon skidding across the platform, his boots scraping the rough stone.
Pain exploded in his jaw, and he spat blood, its metallic tang sharp on his tongue.
"Strong bastard," he muttered, wiping his mouth with a trembling hand, his eyes blazing with defiance.
A faint chime echoed in his mind, clear and ethereal.
[New skill unlocked: Multi Slash.]
Devon's eyes widened, his pulse surging with a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration.
''I'll take any edge I can get,'' he thought, feeling a surge of energy, sharp and electric, coursing through his veins like lightning.
The Executioner charged again, his steps shaking the earth like a quake.
Devon exhaled, tightening his grip, and met him head-on.
Steel clashed in a blinding flurry, sparks dancing in the fading sunlight.
Then, Devon's movements quickened, his blade splitting into shimmering afterimages, each swing a whisper of light.
"Multi Slash!" he roared, his voice raw with determination.
Five rapid cuts tore through the Executioner's thighs, each slice precise, drawing rivers of blood that glistened in the twilight.
The brute staggered, his roar shaking the air, his massive frame teetering.
Devon pressed forward, his strikes a relentless blur, forcing the Executioner back until his boot slipped over the platform's edge.
They fell.
Dust and screams erupted as they crashed into the crowd below. Devon landed in a crouch, his knees jarring against the packed earth, pain shooting through his legs like wildfire.
The Executioner hit harder, the impact rumbling through the ground, his double edged axe skidding across the dirt with a metallic screech.
The crowd scattered, their shouts ringing in Devon's ears, forming a trembling circle around the fighters.
Devon rose, his breath steady despite the ache in his bones. His eyes burned gold in the moonlight, fierce and unyielding.
The Executioner swung wildly, his axe a desperate blur, but Devon ducked, his blade slicing through the brute's shoulder, then his leg, then his arm.
Each wound drove the giant deeper into desperation, his movements sluggish, his roars fading to ragged gasps.
With a final spin, Devon drove the blunt side of his sword into the Executioner's stomach.
The impact sent a shockwave through the brute's frame, his breath escaping in a choking wheeze.
He dropped to one knee, his massive form trembling, gasping for air.
Devon raised his sword, its edge glinting coldly in the moonlight. "Whoever put you up to this," he said, his voice low and laced with menace, cutting through the tense silence, "is next."
Devon's blade met the executioneer's spine.
The Executioner's body stilled, his axe clattering to the blood-stained ground.
For one heartbeat, silence gripped the square.
Then the crowd erupted, their cheers and shouts rising into the night, a tidal wave of triumph.
Devon stood tall, his chest heaving, his blade glinting in the sunlight.
A system HUD flickered into view, glowing faintly in his mind's eye.
[The people are glad you vanquished the Executioner.]
[The people feel liberated.]
[+20, +70, +100, +50, +120 supremacy points.]
Devon climbed back onto the platform, each step a battle against the exhaustion dragging at his limbs.
The guard holding the second woman stepped back, releasing her without a word, his face pale with fear.
Devon's gaze swept the crowd, his voice steady despite the dryness in his throat.
"First, I need water," he said, his words cutting through the murmurs like a blade. He paused, letting the weight of his presence settle.
"Second, I declare this sentencing over. And third…" His eyes locked onto the chieftains, their faces a mix of awe and unease.
"I want to know why an ogre of a man committed treason against a noble's son, fighting me in broad daylight while you all stood by and did nothing."