As the dust settled from their fall, Rattle wasted no time. "Advance into the building. Take the resources and eliminate anyone in your way," he commanded his hidden faction members.
However, something was amiss. The entrance was filled with broken glass and sharp metal scraps, and Fortis, a 6'0" member of Starfall Reach, stood before them. Unable to relay their predicament to Rattle, they decided to handle Fortis themselves.
Slowly rising from the ground, they coughed and dusted themselves off.
"Do these chains ring a bell, Sleavetry? Or have you forgotten? I bet you have. After all, I'm not the only one, am I?" Rattle sneered, showing Klause the chains.
Klause coughed, trying to recall where he had seen Rattle before.
"You put these chains on me, restrained me when I defended myself and my comrades. You should've beheaded me that day," Rattle laughed bitterly. "Not a day goes by without the groaning and moaning of my hostel mates ringing in my ears after your raid."
Klause still couldn't remember who Rattle was.
Meanwhile, Fortis' battle had begun.
As the first enemy set foot on the broken glass, Fortis kicked the shards and metal scraps toward the ten approaching Echowood Retreat members. In slow motion, the nearest enemy was hit in the eye with glass, metal tearing his face and hands. He fell back, covering his face with his arm.
The others shielded their faces with their arms just before the projectiles reached them, but the shards still tore into their exposed skin. Screams of pain filled the air as Fortis delivered a powerful lariat to the nearest enemy, sending him crashing into the others.
They retaliated, hurling broken glass at Fortis. He charged through it, eyes wide open. The glass scratched his face, but he didn't flinch. Sliding into them, he knocked two off their feet. They fell on the sharp surface, screaming in pain. Fortis punched them deeper into the glass and metal, while others continued to throw shards at him, but he remained unfazed.
With the dust clearing, Rattle came into view for the archers. But they couldn't shoot, as Klause was within range. Sweat trickled down their faces as they held their bows steady.
"They can't shoot, can they? Seems luck isn't on your side today, Sleavetry" Rattle taunted, twirling his chain knife with a smile on his face.
"I don't believe in luck," Klause replied, taking a quick-draw posture.
"Oh well," Rattle kicked the chain knife toward Klause.
Klause, like a wisp of wind, unsheathed his katana, meeting Rattle's strike effortlessly. Sparks flew as their blades clashed. Klause immediately dashed forward, closing the distance. Rattle dodged backward, rotating the chain knife around his neck and swinging it upward toward Klause's chin.
Klause leaned back, avoiding the strike, but Rattle brought it down again. Klause threw himself to the side, the spiked sphere cracking the ground. Dust and debris flew up from the impact.
Rattle retracted his weapon and began his deadly dance, his movements fluid and unpredictable. The archers watched in awe as he and his chain knife moved in sync. Klause entered focus mode, tracking the ends of the chain knife, dodging and parrying. A strike cut his left arm, another his right thigh, but he deflected the next.
Klause ran, rolled, and parried, while Rattle danced, their battle becoming a test of stamina and endurance. The moon cast an eerie glow over the battleground.
Rattle's versatile weapon clashed with Klause's katana. They exchanged blows, each move calculated and balanced. Klause's precise strikes deflected Rattle's relentless attacks. His movements flowed like water, seamlessly transitioning from defense to offense.
They both retreated backwards to catch their breaths, skidding across the ground with dust trailing their feet.
"I'll pierce your skull with this knife. Maybe that'll jog your memory," Rattle threatened, twirling the chain ends.
Klause held his katana horizontally. "Let's end this" he challenged, dashing toward Rattle, who responded in kind, spinning his weapon at great speed.
As they closed in, a dark figure flew from Klause's left, grabbing him and shattering his ribs. Rattle's chain knife slashed Klause's eye as he was lifted off the ground.
Rattle stood in shock at the unexpected turn of events.
Meanwhile, Fortis's battle raged on. The ground turned red as ten enemies lay unconscious and bleeding. Blood footprints marked the entrance to the building as Fortis, hands bleeding but healing, walked toward Klause's location. The Crescent moon illuminated his path, a trail of blood in his wake.