It clattered as it walked, crunching the gravel below its feet, leaving scratches in the stone as it dragged its blade.
Harrowing red pupils pierced through the midnight-black bascinet helmet, the flowing and tattered crimson tasset falling from the cuirass.
A Knight? In this ruined city? Shouldn't a city overrun by beasts be devoid of its protectors?
Artemis cleared his throat, raising his hand to make himself known.
"E-excuse m-" His voice faltered.
He had forgotten it, it seemed almost natural. He tried to speak out to the Knight, but one crucial detail prevented him from doing so.
He had been a recluse for two years. Whether because of his own choice or because he really was just a lazy Prince, the fact was that he hadn't spoken with a single person in that period of time. He didn't have any need to speak to himself, all his thoughts were voiced out.
His voice, unlike his body, was underdeveloped, unused. It had aged and broken, left to dust.
Artemis grimaced, glancing towards the Knight. The figure reached into a satchel at his waist, procuring a small silver object.
And then hurled it directly at Artemis in a single, swift motion.
A knife buried itself into Artemis's palm, causing him to jolt backwards. He clutched his wrist, crying out. His knees hit the ground before the streams of his own blood did. It intermingled with the dirty black water that littered the ruined city, a portraiture of his agony.
And still, the Knight continued to advance.
Damn it! I see. There-there is no recourse. This is just h-how unlucky Fate continues to be.
His teeth were ground together, trying to alleviate or distract himself from the pain.
I apologise, I did not want to fight, but you seem intent on it, and I cannot readily convince you with the way that I am.
Artemis shakily got to his knees, slowly pulling the knife out of his hand. It hurt, badly. It wasn't the same as when the skeletal beast chewed into his leg, that was a different sort of pain. While he could feel the razor-like shredding of his own flesh, at least each bit of agony had been new.
But pulling the knife out was a constant, unending pain. It was terribly consistent, the edge of the blade dragging against the inside of his hand as blood continued to stream out and fall to the ground.
He screamed, as loudly as he could.
What danger was there to be, anyway? Perhaps it was only the Knight that could hear him, and he was already seeking these cries of agony. Even if more of those skeletal creatures were attracted by the noise, they were the sorts of things that were the Knight's enemies. Perhaps he would be distracted, and Artemis would gain the opportunity to flee.
Then again, with his leg, it wasn't like he was in a great state to run.
Neither was he prepared to fight.
But he had to. He had to survive this.
Not because he was particularly fond of his life, he just felt bad about the way he had lived it. And the only way to redeem himself was to keep living it.
The Knight fell upon him with a silent fury. He gave no warning when he swung his blade for the first time, colliding down in the stone where Artemis once had been.
Even with his leg in its present condition, it was a matter of slow, calculated movements. It was only his body he pivoted to the side, he hadn't even moved his leg at all. He jabbed the silver knife into the Knight's side, nestling it in the space between the cuirass.
I won't continue to be a simpering b-tch.
When the Knight glanced down at him with his glaring red gaze, unphased by the stab wound in its side, Artemis grinned madly.
And, recuperating its momentum with a flowing flourish, the Knight thrust his weapon forward. It struck the side of its head, digging into his cheek. Blood streamed along the onyx blade, dyed an even darker colour against the black steel.
But he was unperturbed. Rather, with all of the pain he was experiencing, it seemed like another feeble addition to his collection of wounds.
With one swift motion, Artemis pivoted his body, numbness surging through the tattered leg as it collided with the Knight's head.
The bascinet helm was knocked to the ground. It clattered as it skidded along the stone, stopping its dalliance when it collided with a pile of rubble.
And the fiery crimson gaze that had been staring at him through the helmet had vanished.
There was… nothing left underneath it.
What the f-ck!?
Artemis cursed as he stumbled backwards, narrowly avoiding the Knight's retaliatory strike, leaving the silver knife buried in its side.
The suit of armour was now missing a helmet!
Yet, without a head, it was still walking, moving, fighting as if it were a living person!
And despite having no person inside of it, this hollow suit of armour was stronger than he was!
Artemis grimaced as he dodged the Knight's second strike, twisting his body painfully as his fist whipped out, burying itself into the plate metal of its cuirass. It creaked, a slight dent left in its surface.
But that was it. That was all he could manage by himself.
That raised a terrible, important question. Just how was he to kill a suit of armour with no living being inside of it…?
He hadn't considered a plan, he had only been acting in pursuit of survival. But if he really wanted to survive, and not just put up a meager fight, he had to find the way to kill it.
Could he entrap it? There was certainly an abundance of rubble around. Perhaps after so many years of abandonment, there were walls of buildings that were lusting to cave inwards. Could he lead the Knight there?
That was out of the question. He could barely move, even now.
Could he use Lark's Spirit Contract ability?
The mask he wore was capable of 'devouring' the corpses of people he had killed, consuming and 'augmenting' it with whatever ability they had possessed in life. For Artemis, that corpse had been his former teacher.
But the only ability that it had devoured was the Spirit Contract ability that his teacher had possessed, an ability that moderately increased the luck surrounding an event or action, enhancing its likeliness to succeed!
His teacher had called it 'Gambit'.
But would this ability do him any good against the Hollow Knight!?
The Knight had backed up substantially, facing Artemis as it swung its blade in a circle at its side, throwing the blood off of its edge into a straight, menacing crimson line.
Artemis let out a huff, throwing the sweat and blood off of his arms in the same manner.
F-ck it. Forget tradition, let's duel. Let's determine who lives and dies.
You, with your blade, and me, with my fists.
His left eye pulsed with agony, but he did not keel over this time. He bore the pain, this malicious suffering. It wasn't worse than the beast eating his leg, or the knife digging itself into his hand. It wasn't worse than the strikes of the Knight, and it certainly wasn't as agonising as being such a disappointment of a Prince.
He could bear this much!
Slowly, an insidious black mask spread over his face. Its terrifying visage resembled the face of a wolf, tufts of fur like metal spikes jutting out from its borders. Periodically, waves of silver would rush over its obsidian sheen, churning like the stormy eye that pierced through the mask.
He felt life, his vitality gradually drain from him. His veins withered under his skin, his mind blurry and vague, blood spilling from the wounds that opened up on his face as the mask's spikes pierced into his flesh.
Should I use the Spirit Bond? Just how much will be enough? Can I fight this guy with the hopes of continuing on, or is this a situation where I need to give it my all, put my entire life into this fight!?
The Knight thrust forward, barely scraping along the edge of his arm.
He suddenly saw it, caught a glimpse of it.
There was a bloodied mark on the back interior portion of the armour, where no inscription should be! If there were really a person inside of it, their mere presence would deteriorate the markings as their back rubbed up against it.
Was this the secret to the Knight's ability to move?
No, he was just making an assumption, a necessary, desparate assumption.
What kind of gamble was he facing here?
It was the only theory he had, anyway.
Artemis grinned didn't subside, rather intensified.
This is… indeed a Gambit.
If he failed in getting in that close to the knight, he might just die.
But he would die anyway, wouldn't he?
I just need to get there, I need to figure out how he moves! There seems like there's not a single opening!
The Knight struck downwards, but that was the strike that was easy enough to avoid, simply moving his body to the side. The second wasn't that bad either, but the third…
Wait a minute…
That was it.
He noticed it, he finally caught the idea behind the Knight's movements. It seemed serpentine, almost incomprehensible to him. Such a flowing style of fighting was more like a dance, how could he even find the patterns in it?
But it was obvious, so very obvious. The movements were a distraction, not necessarily for show, but simply so that he couldn't determine the sequences of his style!
There were three.
He strikes in threes! The first is downward, the second horizontal, and the third is a thrust! Every time! He might add in different movements to chain these attacks together, but the core principle is the same!
He ducked his head to avoid the horizontal strike, diving in close towards the Knight. The thrust, the third movement, came forward as soon as the Knight had stepped back and spun his blade to enter his stance. Just as he had expected!
In moving towards the Knight, there wasn't enough distance for him to complete the thrust!
His left eye pulsed with pain, the storm churning within.
He felt it, felt its agony, and knew that the Spirit within had held its end of the bargain up. The contract had been effectuated. Whatever action he was going to take next was likely to succeed.
And he had decided on it almost immediately.
Artemis grasped the collar of the armour on both ends, struggling against its writhing.
And with an exertion of force, he tore the armour in two.