Entering Apocalypse in Easy-Mode

The man charged at Clyde with a grin on his face, as if this would not become a problem for him and instead to him, this was probably nothing more than a bit of entertainment.

He was never further from the truth.

Clyde dashed forward as well, his expression calm. He already knew the man was not weak. His position on Samuel’s team alone proved that, and Clyde could feel the strength coming from his presence.

So Clyde did not lower his guard.

The two met in the middle. Their swords collided with a sharp clang. Their blades pressed against each other, trembling as both men pushed for control. Their feet dug into the ground as they tried to force the other back.

"You’ve got a cool-looking sword," the man said through gritted teeth. "You steal that from Hammer?"

Clyde did not answer. Instead, he suddenly moved.

The man’s sword slid past Clyde’s body as Clyde stepped forward with incredible speed. Before the man could recover, Clyde’s fist slammed directly into his face.

The man’s head snapped backward. Blood immediately spilled from his nose and mouth.

Clyde jumped backward and regained his distance. A faint smile appeared on his face. That smile made the man’s expression darken.

"Haha!"

A burst of laughter came from Samuel’s group. Neither Clyde nor the burly man bothered looking toward the source.

"You let your guard down, Don," Samuel said calmly. "Never underestimate your opponent."

Don wiped the blood from his mouth and glared at Clyde. "Now you’ve done it, boy!"

Clyde just shrugged. He knew he had gotten lucky. Don had underestimated him and hesitated at the crucial moment. Clyde doubted he would get another opportunity like that though.

Don’s expression changed. The grin disappeared completely. His fingers tightened around the sword and shield until his knuckles turned pale. He lowered his body and raised his shield in front of him.

Then he charged again. This time, there was no playfulness in his eyes.

Clyde met him in a clash again. Their weapons collided again.

Don swung his sword. Clyde slipped past it and immediately countered with a slash toward his shoulder.

Don raised his shield.

Clang!

The sword struck the shield and sparks scattered across the ground.

Clyde immediately attacked again but Don managed to block it.

He then stabs at him. Don twisted his shield and deflected the blade.

Another slash came from the opposite direction. Don caught it with the shield again.

His defense was solid. Every time Clyde found an opening, the shield covered it. Don’s strength and defensive technique made him difficult to break through.

But Clyde was faster, much faster.

Clyde moved around him continuously, attacking from different angles before retreating, before Don could counterattack.

Don swung his sword toward Clyde’s ribs.

Clyde leaned backward. The blade passed inches from his chest. He immediately stepped forward again and struck toward Don’s side.

Don barely managed to bring his shield around.

Clang!

The impact forced him half a step backward.

Clyde’s eyes sharpened and he accelerated again. The exchange became increasingly violent.

Sword struck shield. Shield deflected blade. Don counterattacked with powerful swings while Clyde slipped around them, constantly searching for another opening.

Several meters away, Samuel and the others watched the fight carefully.

The young woman with the curved blades crossed her arms. "He’s fast," she said. "Much faster than I expected."

The mage beside her nodded slowly. "His movements are efficient too. He isn’t simply relying on speed. He’s deliberately forcing Don to turn his body."

The healer watched with a thoughtful expression. "But Don’s defense is holding. If this continues, I think they’ll eventually exhaust each other."

Samuel did not answer immediately because right now his eyes fixed on Clyde.

Something about the boy’s movements bothered him. That aggression, that speed, the way he constantly pressed forward without giving his opponent time to breathe.

Samuel had seen those movements before.

He remembered another man who fought like this... Clyde.

For a moment Samuel’s eyes narrowed.

No. That was impossible. Clyde was dead.

He had seen for himself the battle and how Clyde might have died. He had seen the aftermath himself.

This boy was called Jack. A completely different person. So Samuel forced the thought away.

"It can’t be," he muttered.

The young woman glanced at him. "What?"

Samuel shook his head. "Nothing."

His eyes returned to the battle.

Don had begun attacking more aggressively, trying to use his superior strength to force Clyde backward.

But Clyde continued moving around him, fast, brutal, relentless.

For reasons Samuel could not explain, the sight was beginning to feel disturbingly familiar. He continued frowning, but he said nothing.

His teammates glanced at him, then at each other. The young woman gave a small shrug before returning her attention to the fight. Whatever Samuel had noticed it clearly was not important enough for them to worry about.

The battle continued but as the minutes passed the difference between the two fighters became increasingly obvious.

Don’s breathing grew heavier. His movements, which had initially been powerful and decisive, gradually became slower. His shield no longer rose quite as quickly and his counterattacks became easier for Clyde to anticipate.

But Clyde continued moving and did not slow down. His sword kept flashing from different angles, forcing Don to raise his shield again and again. Every time Don blocked one attack, another attack immediately followed.

Don’s arms were beginning to ache. His shoulders burned. His legs felt heavier with every step.

What the hell is this boy?! Don gritted his teeth as Clyde suddenly slipped past another swing and struck his shield.

The impact forced him backward. How does he still have this much stamina?

Don had expected the fight to end quickly. Even if Clyde was stronger than expected, surely the boy would eventually tire.

But that had not happened. Clyde’s breathing was still steady. His movements were still sharp. His eyes still focused. There was no obvious sign that his stamina was running low.

Meanwhile, Don felt like the muscles in his body were screaming.

Another attack came.

Don raised his shield but the impact forced him backward again and he stumbled.

Clyde immediately followed with another slash.

Don’s boots scraped against the ground as he struggled to maintain his stance. His heel caught against the ground and his balance broke.

"Damn it!"

He fell backward and landed heavily on his butt.

Before he could recover, Clyde stepped forward and kicked Don’s shield aside.

Don looked up. Clyde stood directly in front of him. His longsword was already raised, the blade stopping just inches from Don’s face.

The training ground became silent.

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