Skill Forge: Broken Extra Character

"Reinforcements have arrived, so just die peacefully," Rashmire declared with a cold smirk. Cormac, unfazed, retorted, "What reinforcements?"

As the reinforcements landed, a sudden jolt of electricity surged through the area.

The newcomers were instantly electrocuted, their bodies convulsing and collapsing to the ground, stunned and incapacitated. Rashmire's watched the scene unfold in confusion.

Before Rashmire could react, Cormac hurled a small object towards him with precise aim. The item exploded in a burst of dazzling light and smoke, momentarily disorienting Rashmire.

Seizing the opportunity, Cormac charged forward, his spear aimed directly at Rashmire.

In a swift motion, Cormac managed to graze Rashmire's chest with a deep scratch, drawing a line of blood. Rashmire staggered back, stunned, as he thought, 'He planned this far ahead? Well, lucky me. I get to kill him myself.'

With a furious shout, Rashmire drew his sabres and prepared for retaliation. Cormac, anticipating the attack, swung his spear in a wide arc. With a chain attached to the spear, creating a deadly whirl aimed at Rashmire.

Rashmire reacted swiftly, raising his sabres to block the incoming assault. The clash of metal against metal rang out as he managed to deflect the attack, though the force of the impact pushed him back.

"Sabre Art Third Form: Rampaging Fang!" Rashmire roared, unleashing a relentless barrage of strikes towards Cormac. Each swing was precise and fierce, intended to overwhelm his opponent.

"Spear Art Fifth Form: Whirlwind!" Cormac countered, spinning the tip of his spear rapidly. The spinning motion generated a powerful whirlwind that absorbed Rashmire's strikes, the gust of wind deflecting most of the incoming blows.

Rashmire's eyes narrowed as he closed in, delivering a powerful kick that sent Cormac skidding across the ground.

Without giving his opponent a moment to recover, Rashmire pressed the attack, his sabres flashing in a relentless assault.

Cormac fought back valiantly, repelling many of Rashmire's strikes with his spear, but the sheer ferocity of the attack found gaps in his defense, landing blows that deepened his wounds.

"If you don't fight back, you'll die," Rashmire taunted, his voice dripping with disdain. He continued the assault with ruthless efficiency, tossing Cormac to the ground.

He relentlessly stomped on Cormac's hand, each step a painful reminder of his superiority. "Is that really all you can muster?"

'I guess I really am not strong enough,' Cormac thought as his consciousness began to fade, the edges of his vision blurring.

Meanwhile, Rashmire continued to relish his torment, stepping on Cormac with a sadistic glee. 'You know, this guy fits the description of someone I was once warned about,' Rashmire mused, a cruel smile playing on his lips. 'Not that it matters anyway.'

The duration of Rashmire's skill finally came to an end, and the oppressive force he wielded dissipated.

Cormac, growing weaker by the second, felt the icy grip of despair tightening around him. His blood continued to seep from his wounds, and doubts began to plague his fading consciousness.

'Is this really all I can do? So this is how I go out?' Cormac's thoughts raced as he struggled to maintain clarity.

'So be it. I didn't live a long life, but at least I lived a good one, right? Do I really have no regrets? Am I really okay with this?' Each passing second seemed to stretch into eternity as he bled out. 'Regrets? Yeah, I did promised my Lord that I would surpass him someday.'

*****

''Flashback''

In a rundown street, the scene was grim. A young child clutched a loaf of bread tightly, his small frame darting through the dilapidated alleyways. He was pursued by three men, their voices harsh and unforgiving.

"Get that kid!" one of them barked, his voice gravelly and menacing.

"Did you see him? He obviously stole that loaf of bread," another growled, his eyes glinting with greed.

The child ran with a desperate determination, his breath ragged as he protected the bread. His clothes were tattered and worn, barely holding together as he stumbled and fell.

The men, grim and ragged themselves, were no better: just hulking figures loitering about, looking for any opportunity to seize what little others had.

The child's frantic flight led him to a dead end, and his heart pounded as his pursuers closed in. The fear in his eyes was palpable, a stark contrast to the men's mocking, indifferent expressions.

"Don't come any closer or I'll… I'll…" the child stammered, his voice trembling as he brandished a rusted knife with shaky hands.

The men's laughter echoed through the alley, cruel and mocking. "Ha ha," they jeered, their voices filled with pure deceit.

"He thinks he's tough because he has a weapon with him," one of the men sneered through his laughter.

"You'll do what, kid? We know you stole that bread, but we'll let you go if you hand it over," the first man warned, his voice dripping with disdain.

"No! I paid for this bread with the money I earned from the fields. If you want one, then go work for it like every other person!" the child shouted with fear as he gripped the knife tightly.

The first man's face twisted with anger. "You've got a lot of nerve telling me what to do, boy. That really ticks me off." With a sudden, brutal movement, he slapped the child hard across the face and lunged to grab the bread.

The child's small frame struggled fiercely against the man's larger, stronger arms. They grappled over the bread, the child's grip on the loaf unwavering despite the force of the man's attempts to pry it away.

In a desperate act, the child bit down hard on the man's arm, his teeth breaking skin and drawing blood. The man howled in pain, pulling back with a growl of frustration.

"Why, you little…" the first man snarled, clutching his bleeding arm. "Don't just stand there, get him. Or don't you want to eat?"

"Alright, kid, come here!" the second man demanded, reaching out to grab the child.

The child, with a burst of adrenaline, dodged the man's grasp and thrust the knife into the second man's leg, drawing a pained cry.

As the second man staggered back, the child shoved the third man away, trying to make a run for it.

However, a fourth man appeared suddenly, blocking the child's escape. With a cruel grin, the fourth man seized the child and hurled him through the air.

The child landed hard, but even as the others closed in to beat him, he clung desperately to the bread, protecting it with a fierce determination.

The beating continued, but the child's resolve never wavered. Just as the situation seemed dire, a commanding voice rang out from behind the men.

"Leave him alone."

In an instant, a powerful force surged through the air, sending all four men flying backward. They crashed into the nearby debris, stunned and disoriented.

The child, barely able to move, lay on the ground with a mix of relief and exhaustion, his grip on the bread still strong.

*****

Back in the present, Cormac lay motionless on the ground, his breathing shallow and labored. Rashmire, having taken the artifact, had abandoned him, leaving him for dead.

He believed that Cormac would succumb to his injuries and the slow creep of death.

'That's right. I can't die here. I still haven't repaid my debt...' Cormac thought with a surge of determination. With immense effort, he managed to sit up and reached for a healing pill, swallowing it as he fought to regain his strength.

Rashmire, still unaware of Cormac's revival, continued on his path with a sense of satisfaction, convinced that the matter was resolved.

He made his way through the winding streets of the capital, the artifact securely in his possession.

Using his remaining MP, Cormac activated his skill, [Stun]. A powerful shockwave surged out, enveloping Rashmire and immobilizing him.

Seizing the opportunity, Cormac darted toward Rashmire, snatching the artifact from the ground.

He then sprinted into the labyrinthine alleys of the capital, his resolve hardening with each step.

The effect of the [Stun] skill lasted for only a minute, but that was more than enough time for Cormac to disappear into the depths of the city. By the time Rashmire recovered, Cormac was already long gone.

Fury and frustration consumed Rashmire as he roared, "I'll kill that brat with my bare hands!" Despite his superior strength, Cormac's escape left him seething with anger and a burning desire for retribution.

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I think you guys already know who that was