Chapter 99 - 16 - The Battle At The Black Market, Part 2 (2)

All eyes in the dimly lit bar turned toward the figure who'd unleashed those two deadly bullets. The air hung heavy with tension as the smoke from the discharged gun drifted lazily through the air. Despite the violence, the atmosphere remained eerily calm, as if the world had paused to witness the aftermath of the gunshot.

I'd known Shredica for five long years, during which time she had morphed into a lethal force to be reckoned with. In the beginning, I only thought of her as just a young recruit, but her prowess with every weapon she laid her hands on was nothing short of astonishing. She exuded strength, a raw power that surpassed even my own.

Even though we found ourselves in a very precarious situation right now, I knew for sure that it would be going to be alright, and I felt a little relief, even though seeing Shredica here was somewhat weird considering the Leader and I hadn't disclosed our plans to assassinate Norman to anyone in the Silver Blades.

Just an hour or two. That's all we needed. If we could just hold out until then, the Leader would return from wherever Norman had teleported her.

Perhaps it would take even less time, given the Leader's formidable combat skills. If we could just endure, weather the storm of chaos that threatened to engulf us, then perhaps, just perhaps, everything would be fine.

"Oh, here's the purple-headed bitch! I've been waiting for you to come out, you know?!" Norman exclaimed with a gleeful, almost sadistic smile. His voice echoed ominously in the dimly lit establishment, mingling with the lingering scent of gun smoke and blood.

He didn't seem bothered by the fact that his two men had just met their end right before his eyes, their lifeless bodies sprawled on the ground.

Shredica turned to look at him, her expression unchanged. But then, in the blink of an eye, a palpable aura of bloodlust enveloped her, thick and suffocating, like a dark cloud descending upon the scene. It was as if she had transformed into the personification of a devil, her very presence radiating danger and menace.

There was no hint of emotion on her face, only an intense, primal urge for violence. It was a chilling sight, one that sent shivers down my spine and made me question everything I thought I knew about her.

In that moment, I realized that I was witnessing a whole new side of Shredica, one that was far more terrifying than anything I had ever imagined.

***

Shredica's POV

In my world, and even in this one, we use the term bloodlust to describe the power that allows a person to emanate their own killing intent. A strong killing intent can have various effects, from instilling fear and paralysis in victims at its simplest level, to causing them to hallucinate their own deaths in a macabre manner, or even leading to actual fatalities in severe cases.

Those who know how to wield it can sense the killing intent of others, allowing them to track and predict their opponents' movements. They can also suppress and control their own killing intent, entering a state of apathy that conceals their motives and prevents them from being tracked by their enemies.

This was the moment I lived for. The exhilarating rush of adrenaline, the intoxicating dance with danger that ignited every nerve in my body. It had been five long years since I last tasted this sensation, and now it coursed through my veins like a wildfire, consuming my senses.

Though the man's swordsmanship surpassed mine and some of his slashes found their mark, slicing through my flesh and drawing blood, I remained confident in my ability to emerge victorious.

As I faced off against the blue-haired man, Miss Arianne took on her own adversaries. The thugs who had set their sights on me now found themselves grappling with her in the chaos of battle. Armed solely with her bare hands, she unleashed a flurry of strikes with the precision of a seasoned martial artist.

Despite being outnumbered and facing opponents armed to the teeth, I had unwavering confidence in her abilities. Though trust didn't come easily to me, I chose to place my faith in her, allowing myself to focus solely on the fight before me.

My eyes remained fixed on the man standing opposite me, his blade gleaming menacingly. Any of his lackeys foolish enough to draw near found themselves met with swift and brutal retribution. Limbs were severed and heads rolled as our deadly dance unfolded, a macabre symphony of violence and skill.

Each blow struck with lethal precision, whether delivered by my hand or his, as we engaged in a battle of wills, locked in a deadly struggle for supremacy. It had become a battle of wills--a test of endurance. The one who grew weary first would lose this deadly exchange.

However, neither of us yielded. Our slashes and swings escalated into a frenzied dance of steel, the clang of our blades echoing through the establishment. With each passing moment, the intensity of our exchange heightened. One minute. Four minutes. Ten minutes.

Twenty. Still, our stamina showed no signs of waning.

Amidst the chaos of our battle, his voice pierced through the cacophony, carried along by the symphony of clashing metal. "...Who the fuck are you?" he demanded, his words laced with a mix of curiosity and disbelief. "I've never encountered a woman with such endurance, especially one with a delicate fucking physique like yours.

And I sure as hell ain't heard of anyone like you among the ranks of the Silver Blades."

"You don't need to know who I am," I shot back. "Before long, you'll be kissing the pavement."

"Kissing the pavement, huh? I'd rather kiss you instead. I'm drawn to a woman with such a defiant fucking personality like yours," he countered, a twisted smirk playing across his lips. "How about it? How about you betray the Silver Blades and become my woman instead?"

"Don't jest with such a comical expression," I replied icily.

"You fucking woman...!" he snapped.