Arin was barely able to keep the elder insect's scythes from crashing down and slicing him apart, as sparks were flying down on his face from the struggling obsidian blade. His blue eyes were not filled with anger or hatred, but rather they were painted with dreadful fear.
'I knew it would be dangerous, but I... I don't want to die!'
Renota's brown and yellow eyes were also riddled with hints of fear, but not the exact same kind that Arin was experiencing. He was terrified of the diabolic creature just as much as Arin was, but unlike the pampered noble boy, he already knew what true fear felt like. This is what allowed him to take the initiative on the confident and disgusting beast. Realizing that the sparks scraping off the sword would allow Arin to see if the creature decided to change its method of attack, Renota extinguished his yellow flames.
Instantly noticing Renota's disappearance, the insect halted its assault on Arin, ceasing the illuminative flow of sparks. Its two lower scythes quickly and near-silently slashed at Arin, but years and years of training his swordsmanship endlessly allowed even someone as talentless as him to react to this attack. He quickly dashed backwards and then fell to the ground. A non-fatal but still rather deep gash had cut through his shirt and formed on his chest, the result of the bone scythes' awe-demanding reach.
But while the insect was focused on approaching where it heard Arin had landed, Renota suddenly appeared at its right side, his yellow flames engulfing his fists once more. Right before his left arm crashed into its side... A number appeared in Renota's mind.
[13]
After seeing this strange number, his usual yellow grin returned to his face. Smashing his fist into the creature's currently undefended right side, he heard a somewhat loud cracking noise. Not wasting any time, he dashed over to Arin, who was already standing up, his sword at the ready. Arin's sense of dread was almost overpowered by confusion when he heard what Renota asked him.
"Do you have any oil?"
"The blade is covered in oil to keep it clean... What the hell are you planning now?"
Renota did not answer Arin's question and instead gripped the oiled obsidian blade of Arin's katana with his enflamed fist.
In almost an instant, the yellow flames engulfed the curved pitch-black blade, making it a beacon to every dangerous creature of the night. As Renota released his grip, the sword's flame turned into a deep but bright shade of blue. Arin didn't quite understand what had just occurred.
With his now-burning sword in hand, he yelled at Renota.
"You fucking Ishog! What is wrong with you?! What am I even saying... I know exactly what's wrong with you! You're just a-" Renota easily cut off the fuming child with a quieter voice that still demanded attention. The moment he spoke, another strange number appeared in his mind.
[20]
"I've got a plan."
Arin couldn't even believe himself as he was reassured by those words. Despite his immense hatred towards Renota, or the life-threatening situation that he'd thrown him into, Arin couldn't physically or mentally bring himself to disagree. He was illogically charismatic.
He couldn't do anything but nod at Renota's words and hope the plan works.
"Your sword should be a lot stronger now that it's enflamed, maybe even strong enough to the point that you can fight that big bug yourself. So I'll leave him to you, and I'll deal with all his little minions."
Arin's face was drenched in blue blood, dread, and absolute fear.
'I have to fight that thing... Alone...?'
Unable to bring himself to disagree with the charismatic man he hated, Arin stared into the infuriated nine-eyed insect human eyes, his own gaze filled with hesitation and fear.
'You'll die if you don't fight it. But if you do, you might live.'
With his fear now contrasted by the slightest morsel of determination, he faced the diabolical insect. Now bathed in blue light, he finally got a good and long look at its terrifying scythes, which were almost twice as long as his own blade. Its menacing stare alone felt like it was enough to fatally injure Arin. But both of the bladed combatants knew that wasn't going to be enough.
Finally overcoming the overwhelming fear that being in the towering insect's shadow brought, Arin quickly dashed towards the creature, his movements adaptable but firm. The diabolic beast crashed its top two arms downwards, and although Arin was tempted to block the terrifying scythes with his sword, he knew that it would just use its bottom two arms to slice him in half. He instead side-stepped away from the fast blades' trajectory, causing he and his sword to seemingly position themselves to perfectly slice off its bottom left arm. As the blade was a fraction of a second away from cleanly severing the scythed arm, something Arin had never once experienced in his training occurred.
Deep, deep within every living creature's mind, there lied a lone twenty-sided white marble figure. Each triangular side was the same size as the others, and on each of those equivalent sides, there was a gold engraving. Each engraving was simply a number one through twenty.
Whenever a creature decided to take an action of significance or difficulty, the marble figure would 'roll' in the creature's mind. After a short period of indecisiveness, the figure would stop rolling, leaving only one number facing upwards. That value decided the performance or success of the decided action.
This very marble figure rolled within Arin's mind in order to decide his success in severing the insect's lower left arm.
[1]
Due to hot oil dripping from the burning blade, his grip on the sword fumbled for just a moment, causing the blade to tilt sideways. Arin's near-perfect attempt to cut its arm off pathetically ended in him hitting it with the dull side of his sword.
Luckily, the edge of his sword was now facing the beast's torso. So, mustering all the strength and momentum he could within the short distance he had to swing, he began pushing his sword rightwards. However, his efforts were already far too late.
The insect's scythe was flying towards his own left arm at an alarming speed and force, threatening to not only cut his arm, but his entire body in half. Countless regrets flashed through Arin's mind as a tear began to form in his eyes.
But before he was able to die, the insect deliberately tilted its scythe sideways, sending Arin flying towards the nearby great oak tree. His collision with the tree was violent, and it was followed with a alarming crack resonating from Arin's chest. As he collapsed to the ground, he could tell that a few of his ribs were, at best, lightly fractured. His sword was embedded into the ground next to him, the flame engulfing it nearly extinguished. He used it as support as he pathetically pulled himself up from the ground, while a concerning amount of blood poured out from his mouth. Arin watched in fear as the creature before him released any and all defensive or offensive positions, opening up his hairy chitin chest for Arin to freely attack. Of course, the creature did not do this out of wild stupidity.
It was making fun of the pathetic excuse of a swordsman, fighter, Campaigner, and human being that was Arin Tetsuya.