In the face of danger, Allen quickly remembered the instructions which had been drilled into his mind and soul while training swordsmanship.
'Check your breathing. Slow and calm. Yup, it's good. The stance? Nope, gotta spread the legs a bit more. Good. Place the sword at an arm's length. Push your leg forward. That'll do. When fighting multiple enemies, put more strength into the shoulders and biceps. It'll enable you to fight longer. When you think you would be overwhelmed by your opponents, then each blow you deal should matter. Swing the sword with the desire to kill. If you hit your mark, the target should either die or at least he should get immobilised. If you do this much, the victory is yours. But if you fail... There's no option to fail. You fight and live. Either in your physical form or in the thoughts of your friends and family.'
Allen went through all this in a matter of seconds. He didn't have any time to waste away. The moment he picked up the sword, his opponents had made him their target.
'Nina must be on her way... I just have to hold out until then.' He thought, steeling himself for the confrontation ahead.
The bigger man started cracking his knuckles. The shorter one also had some kind of a weird weapon in his hands. But due to the darkness, Allen couldn't make out kind of weapon it was. All he knew was to stay clear of his reach.
Once prepared, he raced towards the men. He had fought his multiple enemies before. But they were all mindless monsters. He could predict their next move before they made one, but now, he was facing against two skilled men. Both of which knew exactly what they needed to do.
Allen rapidly closed in on his enemies. His target? The assassin with the tinier frame. Once he was out of the equation, Allen could focus on defeating the hulk, or at least stalling until help arrived. Once he was in their reach, Allen flung himself off the ground and swing his sword viciously at the same time. He wanted to decapitate the guy in one clean swoop. But wasn't that lucky, however.
Before his sword could even reach the man's neck, the hulk kicked him down. Allen was hoping he would stay out of it or that if he interfered, he would at least have some advantage over the duo due to the hulk's size, but it didn't. The man could also teleport, just like the woman he was fighting before. Not only that, the man was pretty skilled at it too. Unlike the lady.
Allen landed on his side and rolled over back to his feet. He was hurting. The kick knocked the wind out of his chest. But he could still fight.
It was his opponent's turn to attack now and they didn't waste any time. The hooded assassin came onto him first. He leapt at Allen like a panther. Darkness giving him a much-expected advantage. These people were assassins, unlike Allen, darkness was their most powerful ally and weapon.
As the assassin got closer to him, Allen got a clear look of his weapon. It was a curved blade. Almost resembling a Panther's claw.
The assassin swung his claw at him from a high angle. Allen instinctively raised his sword to protect him. A fatal mistake.
By lifting the sword, he had left his torso unprotected. Something, the shirtless man-beast took notice of and quickly charged in. Before Allen could realise what was happening, the giant had already closed in on him. Allen's quick reflex brought his hands down in an attempt to save his vital organs, at the last moment. He was successful. The giant's fist connected with Allen's forearm with full force.
Allen got flung back with vicious force and got slammed against the wall. Blood was flowing out of his mouth like a broken faucet. The wall had stopped his momentum, but the sudden stop broke a few of his bones along with his communicator. His sword arm was pretty much useless now. It was clear to him, the hulk wasn't joking around. He was out to kill.
The hulk gave a nod to his underling. He immediately folded his hands in namaste. The claws pointing outwards. He proceeded to close his eyes and started mumbling something in Portuguese.
'The fck is he praying for... I'm the one who is getting his ass kicked, so I should be the one praying right now.' Allen thought and tried to get up, but his legs gave out.
The big guy seemed to have taken notice of Allen's gaze. He stepped closer to him and pointed his thumb towards his underling.
"Just so you know he's praying." He spoke in his hoarse voice.
"No shit Sherlock." Allen smirked and spat a mouthful of blood on the man's foot, "You should be either be praying or pissing your pants because you are going to die soon enough."
"Haha," The man turned around and mumbled something to the other guy in Portuguese.
"Come on, man up and talk in English you mongrels."
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