The Laughing Swordsman

Several vines shot out to bind Apollo's legs. Yet before they could reach, part of them was cut before falling helplessly to the floor. The location around the cut was ever so slightly charred.

Originally, the vines would simply regenerate after being cut. However, the fact that they were charred interrupted that. The vines first had to push off the charred part forcefully, peeling them off like a scab, before they could regrow.

This process did not take long, but within the context of this situation, it was far too long.

Two wooden spikes shot towards Apollo, one towards his head and the other to his shoulder.

After slashing through a vine with his hand, he placed it onto the flat side of his bokken. The transition was practically seamless.

Then, Apollo's bokken snapped out.

Both of the wooden spikes were blown away, while the top part broke off entirely.

Apollo was slowly gaining momentum. He was learning how to transition between maximizing his speed and maximizing his strength, adapting to what kind of attack shot towards him.

Apollo dealt with the attacks so effectively, he even had the time to rip into the surrounding forest. As Apollo shot through the air, the occasional tree would fall to the ground.

Seeing this, Otis frowned. Although his life wasn't threatened, he was now the person facing the pressure. Creating such a lush forest wasn't exactly easy in such an environment like this.

It was called the toxic wasteland for a reason.

Otis was spending most of his mana supplying the forest with what it needed to grow and maintain itself. If he was in the middle of an area filled with vegetation, or just fertile soil for that matter, there would be no need for that.

In fact, Otis could drain the environment and use that to further enhance his attacks.

The feeling was quite stifling, like he couldn't move properly because there was no air to breathe. On top of that, the rate at which Apollo cut down trees was faster than the rate that Otis could create them.

He felt panic begin to set in.

And felt anger boiling to the surface.

Otis desperately wanted revenge. He worked so hard to finally catch up to his father's killer, overcame many trials he believed to be impossible, yet couldn't do anything about it?

Currently, several flowers were covering Otis' arm that had been mangled. It was fixed in the right direction, but blood seeped out from between the petals, showing that it was not fully taken care of.

While Otis' constitution was not weak, he did not have the frightening regenerative ability Apollo had.

There was a limited number of trees in this forest, meaning it was only a matter of time before Otis had no more places to hide.

Then, Apollo would find him.

Fear seeped into Otis' mind. Doubts appeared one after another.

He had thought about getting his revenge time and time again, but never sat down to consider whether or not he had the power to fulfill it.

Otis looked down at his arm that was being held intact by several flowers. Apollo's laughs rang out in the distance, almost like a warning.

The enemy was too strong.

Otis was unable to defeat him in this condition.

...So naturally, he should run.

Apollo's laughs became clearer, as though Otis was being haunted by some ghost.

Countless thoughts rushed into his mind. They were different, but all had the same meaning.

Flee.

Beads of sweat trickled down Otis' forehead. This reaction was completely normal, and in fact, logical. He knew that.

He knew that but...

"Coward."

Otis clenched his teeth as a fierce expression formed on his face.

There was something within Otis that refused.

Something that pushed away all the thoughts he had to escape.

It was more than just doing what made sense or what would have the highest chance of success. Sure, Otis could get away right now and come back at a better opportunity.

However, he made a promise to himself.

A promise that he wouldn't be a coward.

Perhaps Otis would die, but this was also the only way he could live. Otis had principles he decided to live by.

Persisting with them might just kill him.

But sometimes there were more important things than one's life.

Apollo's laughs were right above Otis, prompting him to look up.

Apollo slashed the tree below him, revealing Otis, who was inside. He wasted no time in plunging downwards, sending his bokken out without holding back.

A thundering bang resounded.

The tree shattered into pieces while the nearby leaves were blown away. Apollo and Otis were staring at each other, one had eyes filled with insanity while the other had eyes filled with anger.

Apollo's bokken was stationary. It had been stopped by Otis' arm, but not without a cost. His arm was bent at a strange angle, as though it had a few extra joints. The skin reddened from being stretched too far.

The forest around them rapidly decayed. Otis stopped supporting them with his mana, letting them die.

Now both of Otis' arms were out of commission. He could no longer use them to block another strike.

Apollo raised his bokken which was now covered by Otis blood.

However, before he could bring it down once more, a giant mushroom suddenly grew between them, expanding at a rate that was simply ridiculous.

Apollo slashed the mushroom and cut through it. However, he found his bokken rebounded. The cut rapidly mended before continuing to grow, pushing both Apollo and Otis away from each other.

Otis' arms hung uselessly at his sides, but he no longer needed them. Otis was carried away by a thick stalk of hypha, or the roots of the mushroom. Flowers grew on the arm that was just injured, forcefully pushing the pieces back in place.

As for Apollo, he continued to fly towards Otis, but countless mushrooms got in his way.

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