The tension in the air was palpable, the stare-off between both men electrifying. Lord Sparrow grinned at Nathan's emotionless face. A bloodied berserker against a Lord dressed elegantly in a purple cashmere robe. By all visible accounts, a young man facing an aged man. The difference between the pair was like heaven and hell.

"Threatening me?" Sparrow said thoughtfully. "I suppose it's time I take that head off your high shoulders."

Nathan simply grunted at his former mentor's words. For the Berserker, the sooner he was done with Sparrow, the better. The only reason he hadn't attacked yet was because Diane was running out of time, and Sparrow could be his ticket to saving her. After all, he didn't want to risk attacking the old man and killing him prematurely. By the looks of things, Sparrow fit the mage archetype; the robe was the base for his assumption.

It made sense for Nathan to prepare to close the distance in a moment if he planned to attack the mage, after all keeping the distance only favored Sparrow. The lack of a sword deeply troubled the Berserker, especially since he expected to fight a worthy opponent this time. A look at his bloody fist was enough to restore his confidence. They'll have to be enough.

"I must admit Nathan, I am impressed," Sparrow chuckled, undoing his cashmere robe to reveal a physique that rivaled the Berserker's. "To see you walk through my doors and casually murder a significant chunk of my force is commendable. I mean, your stint in my dungeon puts a dent in your little achievement but still, it's impressive. I can't express how proud I am, my boy."

"You're deranged, Sparrow. You need help," Nathan said.

"Deranged? No. That can't be it. I am simply a father who's proud to see his son finally surpass him. Look at how you casually killed all those people, their lives snuffed just because you so wished." Sparrow cackled and tossed his robe to the floor. "A cold-blooded killer just like I tried to make you before you ran away. It broke my heart, you know, but it's worth it to see you today in this new world—not just alive but thriving, one of the apex predators of the apocalypse. My God, it's like looking into a mirror."

"Mirror?" Nathan spat, circling the crazed lord. "I am nothing like you, and I will never be like you."

"Sure, we are," Sparrow grinned. "Powerful and cold-blooded. It's a shame I won't get to see what you'd turn to become in your prime."

"I see you've accepted the fact that you're going to die today."

"No, on the contrary, I've accepted the fact that I'll have to bury you tomorrow," Sparrow sighed, a flicker of pain passing through his features. "Be sure to send Mr. Weng my regards."

"IT'S MR. WONG, YOU OLD FOOL!!!" Nathan growled, a thunderclap booming as he launched himself at the blabbering Lord.

The Berserker had no idea what spells Sparrow possessed and what exactly he was supposed to brace himself for when it came to the Lord, but what happened next threw him off his game badly. Sparrow simply met his charge with a blade that had materialized out of thin air.

Shit. Nathan cursed at the latest variable to be thrown into the fray. Suddenly, he wasn't so sure that Sparrow was a mage, and his miscalculation had earned him a diagonal cut across his chest, and worse, the blade went a lot deeper than the dead Rogue's. The unexpected blow caused Nathan to hop back with a grunt, with Sparrow staring at him with a grin.

"I always told you to think with your brain, not your eyes, but like always, you never did learn, boy," Sparrow shook his head. "A Berserker in mage clothing, more like the proverbial wolf in sheep's clothing. Works every time."

"You talk too much. [Blood Boil]."

[You have successfully cast Blood Boil. Your opponent has lost 10% of their health.]

Nathan needed a little bit of time, and the skill had bought him that. Attacking Sparrow without a sword now seemed harder than ever, especially since he could tell by just looking at the blade in the Berserker's hand that it was at the very least C-grade, but Nathan assumed it'd have to be higher. The blade was dark as night and seemed to absorb the light around it rather than reflect it. It looked beautiful but was certainly deadly, judging by the way it had easily bypassed his high constitution to score a deep cut across his chest.

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He needed to keep the blade from touching him if he had any hope of winning this one. Unfortunately for Nathan, the sword was less lethal than the person wielding it—Sparrow. The Berserker stared at his former mentor who still hadn't moved, the old man grinning creepily at Nathan as though taunting him to come score a free hit.

[Blood Boil]

[You have failed to cast Blood Boil.]

Hells, status.

[Name: Nathan Orion

Moniker: N/A

Level: 60

Archetype: Blood Berserker

Class: Blood Baron

Imprints: Balls of Steel, Demon Slayer, Skull Crusher, Bronze Dungeoneer, Wrong Underdog, Bronze Technician.

Strength: 48

Dexterity: 23

Vitality: 23

Constitution: 32

Perception: 20

Dao: Wind

- Core Energy: (1000/1000)

Core Energy Recovery: (1 per minute)

Ra'hal Coins: 560,840

Free Points: 6

]

Four points to Constitution.

Two to Strength.

[Constitution: 36

Strength: 50

#########

Free Points: 0]

[Congratulations! Requirement met: Strength stat at 50. Super Strike earned.

[Super Strike (passive) Lv1], +20% damage on all melee attacks.]

Nathan's left brow twitched at the new notification, and he had to restrain himself from openly cackling. Confident that he'd armed himself as best as he could, he dismissed the system screen to stare at the Berserker who'd patiently waited for him to do what he had to do. Sparrow simply stood watching, his black blade covered with Nathan's blood.

"You done? Because you have to make this exciting for me. It's been long since I've had to actually fight," Sparrow sighed before pointing his sword at Nathan. "Make it worth my time, else I'll dismember you and throw your pieces in with the rest of those worthless shits."

The Berserker wasn't interested in the nonsense that Sparrow was spewing. If he fell today, then nothing else mattered to him, but he highly doubted that he'd fall to the old fart. The black blade was his only concern, but his upgraded Constitution would have to do. Wordlessly he charged; his fist would do all the talking for him now.

A left hook from him was blocked by Sparrow casually, the old man not even straining himself to keep up with Nathan. A swift headbutt in response almost caught Nathan off guard, but he hopped back, alarm bells ringing in his head at the thought of the ease with which Sparrow was rebuffing his attacks. Gritting his teeth, he attacked again, this time with a kick to Sparrow's abdomen, only for Sparrow to deflect the attack with an arm, not even budging.

[Sparrow has cast [Rooted: (III)]. You are unable to move for thirty seconds.

Time till effect fades: 0:29]

"My turn," Sparrow said menacingly. "I think I'll take my time... or not."

"Shit."

At least he could talk, but he didn't think it was going to do him any good in this situation, especially with Sparrow finally leaving the spot he'd been standing on for a long time. The tip of his black blade trailing behind him, his eyes holding nothing but unrestrained malice and hate, and for the first time since their reunion, Nathan could tell that Sparrow wasn't faking the expression.

Swoosh!

The movement was swift and precise, the black blade blurring. He didn't even know when the blade sliced through the skin, but he felt it when Sparrow twisted the blade that had pierced through Nathan's abdomen, blood gushing out of his broken skin. But he gritted his teeth and kept shut; he wasn't going to give the old man the pleasure of hearing him cry out.

[Warning: 73% health remaining]

Sparrow wasn't deterred by Nathan's lack of response to the twisted blade in his abdomen. If anything, he was hyped up, judging by the fire that had lit up in his eyes. With a casual motion, he tugged the blade out and sliced at Nathan's leg, the blade tearing through flesh and only stopping once it met bone. But Sparrow wasn't done; pulling back, he did the same with Nathan's other leg before slicing at Nathan's arms.

[Warning: 47% health remaining]

Timer: [Sparrow has cast [Rooted: (III)]. You are unable to move for thirty seconds.

Time till effect fades: 0:09]

"After I kill you, I'll be sure to give your skull to Prince Kabash," Sparrow chuckled darkly. "There'll be no rest for your soul."

At the mention of the demon prince, something in Nathan seemed to snap, and he started struggling against the invisible hand that kept him immobile, with no success. A little bit of panic began to seep in, especially since he could see Sparrow raising his sword for one final attack—an attack that was aimed for his neck. As soon as the swing started, he tried the only option left he could.

[Dissipate]

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