My Second Chance in Life in Another World-Chapter 67: BONDS OF FIRE AND STEEL

After Alad commanded Werk and Cirris, they wasted no time attacking.

The moment they lunged forward, I felt a chill run down my spine. Something was off. The way their eyes darted towards me, the subtle smirks forming on their lips—this wasn’t just a straightforward battle. Then it hit me.

Wait... they’re looking at me? That’s their plan!

"If you won’t fight, then we’ll just attack Will," Werk declared, his voice dripping with amusement as he marched toward me.

I clenched my fists. They weren’t going after Tyiyn or Raiden directly. No, they had a much crueler strategy—using me as bait. They knew my friends wouldn’t stand by and let me be attacked, forcing them to fight back whether they wanted to or not.

"You’re scum," Raiden said through gritted teeth, stepping between me and Werk without hesitation. His stance was firm, his expression hardened.

Werk’s lips curled into a taunting grin. "Now, do you have the energy to fight?" he teased, tilting his head slightly.

"Tsk!" Raiden clicked his tongue, frustration evident in his voice.

But just as Raiden stopped Werk’s approach, Cirris took advantage of the moment. His boots pounded against the ground as he sprinted straight toward me, his speed making it almost impossible to react in time. My heart pounded in my chest. Was this it? Was I about to be cut down, just like that?

Before I could even flinch, a blur of movement cut in front of me.

"Don’t be in such a rush. I’ll take your challenge. Wouldn’t you rather fight me?" Tyiyn’s voice was calm yet firm as he stood between me and Cirris, his stance unwavering.

Cirris skidded to a halt, his expression shifting slightly. Was it hesitation? Doubt? But just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished.

"Why are you doing this, Cirris?" Raiden asked, his voice laced with something close to desperation. "Aren’t we friends?"

For a second, Cirris didn’t answer. His grip on his sword tightened, and he looked away. "It’s not like I want to do this," he murmured, barely audible. "I don’t have a choice. If I do this, Alad will finally stop bullying me. So... sorry."

The sadness in his voice made Tyiyn’s expression falter. Raiden, too, seemed momentarily frozen.

Then it happened.

Cirris’s sword shot forward, aimed directly at Tyiyn’s chest.

Had it been anyone else, the fight would have ended in an instant. But Tyiyn—fast, skilled, always alert—reacted just in time. His body moved instinctively, muscles tensing as he jumped backward, narrowly avoiding the blade.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then Cirris laughed.

It wasn’t a laugh of relief or nervousness. It was something darker—something twisted.

"Is that what you wanted me to say? HAHAHAHA!" His laughter rang through the battlefield like a jagged knife scraping against metal. His eyes gleamed with unsettling excitement, his grin stretching unnaturally wide. "It really feels good to fool people... I can’t get enough of it!"

Tyiyn’s jaw clenched, his hands tightening into fists. "You’re done for," he said coldly, his voice carrying a weight that sent shivers down my spine.

Cirris’s laughter didn’t stop. If anything, it only grew louder. "Yeah, that’s right. That’s the reaction of those who can’t understand me! That’s the reaction I want the most! HAHAHAHAHAHA!" Without warning, he lunged at Tyiyn.

The clash of steel filled the air as Cirris’s blade swung wildly, each strike aimed to kill. But Tyiyn moved like a shadow, his body weaving between the attacks with effortless precision. His movements weren’t just quick—they were calculated, refined.

Watching them fight sent a mix of emotions through me. Fear. Awe. Helplessness.

They were fighting for me. Defending me.

I wanted to help. I wanted to stand beside them, to fight back, to be more than just a burden slowing them down. But my body... my body wouldn’t move.

My limbs felt heavy, weighed down by exhaustion. I forced myself to move, but even lifting a finger felt like trying to push against a mountain. My breathing grew labored, my vision swaying as the world around me blurred.

Damn it. Was it because I overexerted myself?

I fought to stay awake, to keep watching, but my eyelids felt like lead. Every muscle in my body screamed in protest, and my consciousness wavered like a candle in the wind.

No... not now... I can’t fall asleep now...

But no matter how much I struggled, my body refused to listen. My vision darkened, the sounds of battle fading into a distant hum.

Until, finally, I gave in.

***

Raiden’s POV

"Will!"

Chris’s panicked voice echoed through the battlefield as he rushed to Will’s side.

I barely had time to glance in their direction before Tork, who had been standing just behind Chris, approached with a concerned expression.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice edged with tension.

"He suddenly lost consciousness," Chris responded, his brows furrowed, eyes filled with worry.

Tork observed Will for a moment before shaking his head. "Let him be," he said calmly. "It’s better for him to sleep so he can rest."

Chris hesitated, gripping Will’s shoulder slightly. His concern was evident, but Tork’s words carried weight. Reluctantly, he nodded, though the worry in his eyes remained.

But I couldn’t afford to focus on them for too long. 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

A sharp movement in the corner of my vision reminded me of my current predicament.

Damn it!

Werk hadn’t stopped attacking me since the fight started, his relentless strikes forcing me onto the defensive. But I had made the mistake of momentarily losing focus, and he noticed.

"Where do you think you’re paying your attention?" Werk sneered, his voice laced with amusement as he pulled his sword back. He shifted his stance, gripping his weapon tighter as a faint glow surrounded the blade. He was preparing to use a skill.

"Vertical Slash!"

With a roar, he brought his sword down in a powerful swing, the air whistling as his strike aimed directly at me.

I barely had time to react. My instincts kicked in, and I raised my sword to block, but the sheer force of the blow sent a numbing shock through my arms. The impact nearly knocked the weapon from my hands, and I staggered backward as cracks formed along the wooden blade. That was close... too close.

"You’re not attacking at all," Werk taunted, his voice dripping with condescension. "Are you just going to keep defending like a coward?"

His words stung, but I knew better than to be provoked.

That’s right... My offensive power is next to none.

It wasn’t an admission of weakness—it was just the truth. My fighting style had always been defensive, built around counterattacks rather than brute force. I wasn’t the type to charge in recklessly. I waited, observed, and seized openings when they presented themselves.

But this type of opponent... Werk was the kind of fighter I hated the most. He didn’t rely on tactics or precision—he relied on brute strength to bulldoze his way through a fight. And against someone like that, finding an opening wasn’t the problem. The problem was that even if I saw one, I lacked the raw strength to capitalize on it.

Werk grinned as he saw my hesitation. "You’re losing focus again!" he barked. His stance shifted, and I knew he was about to attack once more.

I didn’t wait for him to move. Instinctively, I jumped backward, creating distance between us. Maybe it was fear—after all, his last attack nearly shattered my weapon. But it wasn’t just fear. I needed space to think.

"Horizontal Slash!"

He roared again, swinging his blade, aiming to cut me down from the side.

This time, I was ready. Since I had already distanced myself, avoiding the attack was simple—I leaped backward once more, just out of reach. His blade sliced through empty air, and his sneer deepened.

I had to find a way to beat him. If I didn’t end this soon, my stamina would wear down, and I wouldn’t last much longer.

My eyes darted across the battlefield, scanning for anything—anything—I could use to my advantage.

And then, I saw it.

That’s it.

Werk exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders. "You really aren’t going to attack, huh?" he muttered, sounding more annoyed than before. "That’s boring." He raised his sword again. "Let’s finish this already."

His aura flared, and this time, his attacks carried even more force. He swung wildly, each strike making the ground beneath us tremble. I dodged, sidestepped, and parried as best I could, but he wasn’t giving me an inch.

I need to time this perfectly...

I avoided another strike by jumping backward again, but this time, Werk lunged forward. He wasn’t letting me run anymore. He was closing the distance.

Perfect.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" I let out a battle cry, throwing my sword forward with all my strength.

The move was so unexpected that even the spectators watching the battle gasped.

Werk’s eyes widened in shock as the sword spun through the air toward him. But his instincts took over quickly—he swung his blade in retaliation, cutting through my weapon with ease. The wooden sword shattered, the pieces scattering to the ground.

For a brief moment, silence filled the battlefield. Werk stared at the broken fragments, utterly confused.

He turned his gaze back to me, as if to ask, What the hell are you thinking?

That’s when he saw me.

Sitting on the ground.

I wasn’t in a battle stance. I wasn’t preparing to fight. I was simply... sitting there.

Werk’s face twisted with confusion, his brows furrowing. "What...?"

And then, before he could fully process what was happening—

A fireball slammed into his face.

The explosion sent him stumbling back, flames licking at his skin. He let out a strangled yell, his hands flailing as he tried to pat out the fire.

I smirked. "I won."

A heavy silence hung in the air.

Everyone—Chris, the spectators—wore the same dumbfounded expression, their eyes locked on the aftermath of my strategy.

Werk lay sprawled on the ground, unconscious. The flickering embers from the fireball still hovered in the air before finally fading into nothingness. A moment ago, he had been unstoppable, hammering down on me with brute force, and now... he was out cold.

This is my chance to finish it.

I didn’t hesitate. With my heartbeat still pounding in my ears, I stepped forward, gripping the hilt of Werk’s sword tightly. Werk’s chest rose and fell, slow and steady, but his body remained motionless.

I tightened my grip and brought the hilt of my sword down—

CRACK!

I struck him hard against the side of his head. His body twitched for a split second before finally going completely limp. The fight was over.

I exhaled, my body relaxing for the first time in what felt like hours. My arms ached, my fingers numb from holding the sword too tightly. But I won.

And I hadn’t done it alone.

My gaze shifted toward Tork, who was watching me with a knowing smirk. The fireball that turned the tide of the fight? That was him. That was his doing.

Yeah... that’s right.

The moment I realized I couldn’t win against Werk in a straight-up fight, I started looking for another way. And in that moment of desperation, I had caught sight of Tork, standing on the sidelines, his hands glowing faintly as he prepared to cast a spell.

That’s when the plan formed in my mind.

Our eyes met, and without a single word, I gave him a subtle nod. I trusted him to understand.

I trusted him to cast the fireball at the right moment.

And he trusted me to create an opportunity for it to land.

When I threw my sword, I let out a loud scream—not just to confuse Werk, but to mask the sound of Tork chanting his spell. If Werk had noticed Tork, he would have dodged. But instead, he was so focused on me that he didn’t even see it coming.

If this plan had failed, I would’ve been defenseless. Without my sword, I had nothing left. It was a gamble—a reckless, all-or-nothing move.

But it worked.

The trust we had in each other was what won us this fight.

For a moment, the battlefield remained silent.

Then, the moment shattered.

The crowd erupted in chaos.

Angry voices surged forward like a wave, their shouts overlapping into an indistinct roar.

"Is that magic?! This is a swordsmanship fighting ground! Are you an idiot?!" a white-haired guy in the front row yelled, his face twisted with fury.

"That’s right! What the hell were you thinking? You cheater!" another guy added, fists clenched.

"Play fair, can you?! It’s not fun if you cheat!"

The anger spread like wildfire. Soon, the entire crowd was shouting, voices merging into one deafening chant:

"Cheater! Cheater! Cheater!"

Their words slammed into me like a wall of pressure, but I didn’t flinch.

I simply stood up, turning to face them all.

The moment I moved, they quieted down, their attention now focused on me.

It was obvious what they wanted. They wanted me to apologize. They wanted me to admit that I broke their rules. That I should’ve fought Werk in the way they deemed acceptable.

I didn’t give a damn about what they wanted.

I exhaled, then narrowed my eyes, my voice dripping with venom.

"Huh? Who the hell cares about your rules?" I spat, my words cutting through the silence. "You really think I’d follow them?"

Murmurs rippled through the crowd, but I wasn’t done.

"Are you all idiots?" I continued, my frustration boiling over. "You lot dragged us here. You nearly got my friend killed. And now you expect me to follow your rules? For fun’s sake?"

My words struck a nerve. Some of them flinched. Others clenched their fists, their anger intensifying. But I didn’t stop.

"Then here’s what I have to say," I growled, taking a step forward.

I lifted my chin, staring them all down.

"So listen carefully—"

I took a deep breath—

"FUCK YOU ALL!"

My voice rang out, cutting through the air like a blade.

And then—

Chaos.

The crowd exploded with rage, their fury igniting like dry wood in a wildfire.

People surged forward, shoving each other as they yelled over one another. Fists were raised, some even reaching for their weapons as their anger escalated into pure hostility.

Tork let out a low whistle behind me. "Well," he muttered. "That escalated quickly."

Chris groaned, rubbing his temples. "Raiden... did you really have to say that?"

I rolled my shoulders, glancing over at Werk’s unconscious body. "Yeah," I muttered.

And I didn’t regret a single word.