Tyrak

Tyrak
A part of the Chronicles of War

He remained perfectly calm.

He didn’t even flinch when the first knife flew by his head, so close that it took a few strands of his golden blond hair along with it, eventually embedding itself into the stone wall of a building a few feet behind him with incredible force.

He wasn’t surprised in the slightest when the first assassin charged at him from the shadows of the dark street, aiming to pierce his heart with the knife in a quick kill. He just sidestepped the attack effortlessly. Nor was he caught off guard when the other two attacked him from behind, their daggers not even tearing his casual, black and green clothing as he turned sideways so that both simply passed by him, one on each side.

He wasted no time as he reached behind his left shoulder and unsheathed the greatsword strapped across his back, bringing it over his shoulder and holding it in front of him with both hands on its hilt. He didn’t hesitate for even a second when he sliced the enormous sword across his front as the first assassin rushed in again, the greatsword easily piercing the assassin’s black, leather armor and cutting into his chest. He wasn’t at all shaken when his victim fell to the floor, holding his arm against his wound in pain, his sleeve slowly soaking in his own blood.

He remained expressionless.

When the other two assassins charged at him together after seeing their ally fall, he didn’t pause for even an instant to feel pity for his wounded opponent. Instead, he brought the newly bloodstained sword up from his right side and slashed upwards in a powerful swing. The blade didn’t touch either of them, however. Rather, they both broke apart from each other, each dashing in the opposite direction from the other to keep away from the swordsman‘s attack.

Just as he had wanted.

His deep blue eyes glanced over to the one that jumped to his left, not even concerned with the second opponent at the moment. He continued to keep his relaxed, unshaken demeanor as they both rushed in at him simultaneously, turning and bending back to his right, dodging a lethal stab to his throat. While doing this, he also straightened his left leg slightly so that he avoided a crippling swing from the other assassin, whom he still hadn’t attacked or openly acknowledged in any way. Before the assassin who thrust at his neck could recover, the warrior pulled his sword around and chopped down onto his assailant’s back, cutting into it but stopping just before his spine, keeping the blow nonlethal. The man jerked back in pain as the sword cut into his flesh, dropping his dagger in the process. As his target pulled his sword out of his back, he slowly collapsed to the floor as blood spilled out of his back, unconscious but not dead.

Even after all this, the fighter’s face remained emotionless.

He then turned to his final opponent, whom had drew back a foot or two after his previous, failing attempt to attack him. The assassin seemed somewhat nervous about attacking the man, fearing for his very life. He was young, an adolescent, new to this strange and evil line of work, having only went into it for the money he desperately needed to acquire, soon. He was, then, naturally relieved when the swordsman lifted the blood covered greatsword over his shoulder and sheathed it into the holster on his back. The warrior continued to remain completely expressionless in the situation, taking note of the assassin’s every move, no matter how insignificant. The assassin started to put his knife away, but then he remembered his employer. A cold, cruel man who had been rumored to kill people simply because they looked at him oddly. His mind spun around at the possibilities of what his employer would do to him, and he began to silently panic. He decided to finish the job, suddenly gripping his dagger again and rushing forward to stab the swordsman through the heart, thinking he had finally won this battle.

But the warrior saw him coming even before the assassin decided whether to attack or not.

Just before the killer’s blade reached its destination, the swordsman, now unarmed, somehow raised his right hand and grabbed his opponent’s wrist in the blink of an eye. The assassin, obviously stunned that any man could have such finely toned reflexes, tried to pull out of his grip, but he didn’t even get a chance to try. Immediately after catching him, the warrior raised his left elbow and sent it down just below the assassin’s neck, instantly knocking him unconscious. The warrior released his third opponent, letting his limp form drop to the floor with the other two.

The swordsman sighed as he saw his handiwork, but continued to keep a completely expressionless appearance. He walked over to the smooth, stone wall of one of the nearby buildings, the wall that the first knife had embedded itself into. With light pull, he easily drew the knife out of the thick structure. He then took the blade and proceeded to write a small message into the wall, marking into the thick stone with relative ease.

“Damien,

Please, just for once, dig into those vast fortunes of yours and hire some qualified assassins for a change?
I’m growing bored.

Your dearest enemy,
-Tyrak”

After writing this, the swordsman, or “Tyrak” as he appeared to be called, smirked lightly in the smallest sign of emotion as he thrust the knife back into the wall above his note, then turning around and examining the scene he had left behind. Three amateur assassins, two bleeding, all three unconscious. At that moment, a woman walked out of her front door, jumping back a little upon seeing the four men in the dark street.

Tyrak walked up to the woman, calmly requesting. “When these men wake up, tell them to move on with their lives, alright?”

The woman nodded nervously, noticing that the man had an X shaped scar underneath his left eye, a mark showing that he was one to be careful around. Before leaving, Tyrak took out a small bag of gold and tossed it onto the third assassin, the young one who had hesitated in his attack. He then dusted his clothes off for a moment, deciding to just pass through this city and find the next one before his handiwork was discovered. He turned from the bodies on the road and set off to the next settlement.

Still perfectly calm.