Chapter 21

Achilles stood firm, blocking Shea from the man who had emerged from the woods. Tension thickened the air, and Shea could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she watched the two face off.

“Who’s your boss?” Achilles demanded, his voice steady despite the threat that loomed between them.

The man smirked, his confidence radiating like a shield. “I’ll tell you once you’re about to die.”

Achilles narrowed his eyes, the blue depths swirling with intensity. “You think you can intimidate me? You won’t win. I’m a High Rank.”

“High Rank?” The man scoffed, shaking his head as if Achilles had told a bad joke. “You’re just a brat with zero experience, going up against a veteran. You have no idea what you’re in for.”

Shea shifted uneasily in the car, the weight of their words sinking in. She knew Achilles had strength, but this man exuded a dangerous air, one that hinted at a long history of battles fought and won.

Achilles clenched his fists, his muscles taut with readiness. “Experience doesn’t mean a damn thing when you’re outclassed. You might think you know what you’re doing, but I’ve trained my whole life for this.”

The man took a step closer, his presence ominous and unyielding. “You might have some skill, but you’re still a kid playing with toys. I’ve faced foes far worse than you. You’re nothing but a shadow of what’s to come.”

The air crackled with tension as Achilles squared his shoulders, preparing for the inevitable confrontation. He could feel Shea’s eyes on him, the concern etched into her features, but he couldn’t afford to show any weakness.

“Then let’s see how this plays out,” Achilles replied, his voice low and filled with resolve.

The man laughed, a dark, chilling sound that echoed through the clearing. “You’ll regret challenging me. You’re going to find out just how much you don’t know.”

The man and Achilles circled each other, their movements fluid and precise. Each was acutely aware of the other's strength, their eyes locked in a silent challenge. The clearing around them seemed to hold its breath, the air heavy with anticipation.

With a sudden burst of speed, the man lunged at Achilles, his fist aimed at the younger man's jaw. Achilles deftly dodged the blow, countering with a swift kick that sent the man stumbling back. The man recovered quickly, his eyes flashing with determination as he charged at Achilles once more.

The two fought with a ferocity that belied their human forms, their supernatural strength evident in every punch and kick. They were evenly matched, each landing blows that would have felled a lesser opponent. The man's admiration for Achilles grew with every exchange, his respect for the young High Rank evident in his expression.

"Impressive," the man conceded, his voice strained as he blocked a particularly vicious punch. "You're equal to me in hand-to-hand combat. But do you know why I'm different from you?"

Achilles narrowed his eyes, sensing the shift in the man's demeanor. He watched as the man reached beneath his jacket, pulling out a dagger that glinted menacingly in the sunlight.

"Silver," Achilles murmured, his gaze fixed on the weapon.

The man grinned, a cold, calculating smile that sent a shiver down Achilles' spine. "You have your advantages as a High Rank, but I have mine. Even as a Mid Rank, I can wield this silver dagger with deadly precision. It's what makes me a force to be reckoned with."

The atmosphere grew tense once more, the weight of the man's words hanging heavy in the air. Achilles knew that the fight was about to take a dangerous turn, the stakes higher than ever before. He steeled himself, his muscles coiled and ready for the next attack.

The man charged at Achilles, the silver dagger slicing through the air with deadly intent. Achilles dodged and weaved, his movements a dance of death as he tried to avoid the blade's lethal touch. The man was relentless, his strikes swift and precise, each one pushing Achilles closer to the edge.

Achilles knew that he couldn't afford to make a mistake, not with the silver dagger in play. He had to stay focused, to keep his wits about him if he wanted to come out of this alive. He could feel the man's confidence growing with every near miss, the pressure mounting as the fight wore on.

But Achilles was not one to back down, not when the stakes were this high. He gritted his teeth, his determination burning like a fire within him. He would not let this man take Shea, not when he had sworn to protect her. He would fight with every ounce of strength he possessed, even if it meant facing his own demise.

With a roar, Achilles launched himself at the man, his fists flying in a flurry of blows. The man parried and countered, the silver dagger flashing in the sunlight as he tried to find an opening. But Achilles was relentless, his movements fueled by a desperate need to protect the woman he had a duty to protect.

The fight raged on, the two men locked in a deadly dance that seemed to defy the laws of nature. The clearing around them was a blur of motion, the air filled with the sound of grunts and the clash of fists. It was a battle of wills, a test of strength and skill that would determine the fate of them all.

And as the fight wore on, Achilles knew that he would have to dig deeper than ever before, to find the strength to overcome this formidable foe. He could feel the man's resolve weakening, the cracks beginning to show in his armor. But he also knew that the man would not go down without a fight, that he would stop at nothing to achieve his goal.

With a final burst of energy, Achilles lunged at the man, his fist connecting with the man's jaw in a bone-crunching blow. The man staggered back, the silver dagger slipping from his grasp as he fell to the ground.

Achilles stood over him, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the thrill of victory tempered by the knowledge that the fight was far from over. He knew that there would be more challenges ahead, more enemies to face.

But for now, he had won. He had protected Shea, and that was all that mattered.

The man groaned, his eyes fluttering open as he struggled to regain his composure. Achilles watched him warily, his muscles tensed and ready for another attack. But the man made no move to retrieve the silver dagger, his body slumped in defeat.

"You may have won this time," the man rasped, his voice barely audible. "But you can't protect her forever. They'll come for her, and when they do, you won't be able to stop them."

Achilles stood over the fallen man, his eyes cold and unforgiving. "Let them come," he spat, his voice dripping with confidence. "They'll all face the same fate as you."

With a swift, brutal kick to the man's neck, Achilles ended his life. The sound of breaking bones echoed through the clearing, a chilling reminder of the violence that had just transpired.

Without hesitation, Achilles hefted the lifeless body and carried it to the car trunk. He unceremoniously dumped it on top of the other corpse, slamming the trunk shut with a finality that seemed to punctuate the end of the confrontation.

Wiping his hands on his jeans, Achilles strode back to the driver's side door and slid into the seat. He turned to Shea, his expression softening slightly as he took in her wide-eyed stare.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gruff but tinged with concern.

Shea nodded mutely, still processing the brutal scene she had just witnessed. Her mind raced with questions and fears about the people who seemed determined to hunt her down.

Seeing the turmoil in her eyes, Achilles did something unexpected. He leaned across the center console and wrapped an arm around her in a brief, awkward hug. As he pulled away, he patted her head gently, his touch surprisingly tender for someone capable of such violence.

"I'll protect you," he said firmly, his blue eyes meeting hers with an intensity that left no room for doubt.