Chapter 13: Construct

Words : 1033 Updated : Sep 10th, 2025

Chapter 13: ConstructHis mind screamed at him. Dodge! Twist! Roll! His sword was already deflecting the arrow, but his left side was left wide open, a sword already in the construct’s hand, aiming for his ribs. One of the advantages of being weak that Vacuse could mention was that it forces one to be creative, those who want to stay alive. A burst of force from his legs sent him shooting up, a blazing sword passing through where he once was. Midair, he twisted and sent a force slash downward. The construct jumped away, its own sword cutting upward, and the two met with a hard clanging sound. "You’re tough," Vacuse muttered as he reached the ground again, barely noticing the jarring in his bones. Of course, the construct didn’t reply, but the murderous intent flowing from it seemed to sharpen. It bent a little, its grip on its sword loosening. Vacuse recognized the technique immediately, and his own body reacted instinctively. He slashed his sword sideways, releasing the force energy like a whip. At the same time, the construct did the same! Crack! The two attacks snapped in the air, red and blue, and collided in a burst of rippling shockwave. But even then, immediately after the two released their attacks, they were already on the move, as if they planned it. Vacuse bent his body and darted beneath the shockwave above him, and the construct did the same. The two collided, sword against sword, sparks flying. Vacuse felt the painful vibration deep in his bones and knew he couldn’t match the construct in strength. His body was simply too weak and soft to keep up. He gritted his teeth as he was pushed back effortlessly. "Fuck, I forgot I’m still a kid. The physical difference can’t be compared! I can only beat it with Force energy!" Vacuse’s eyes scanned the construct’s body fruitlessly. He was searching for its weak points, almost forgetting that the construct isn’t a training one. They are made for killing and could only be turned off by the main control, which was at the outpost. Vacuse jumped back from it. "The worst thing is, it will begin to adjust, knowing my weaknesses while its intellect increases." Vacuse didn’t even notice he was smiling, his eyes shining and his blood shimmering. He was enjoying it, to fight something and not immediately think he was going to die, to actually fight and not try to survive. It was something he never experienced in his past life. The construct seemed to have known their strength difference because its grip on the sword tightened, and it held it more forcefully. Vacuse grinned. "Bastard is going to try and end it." Just as he suspected. The construct leaped, its steps so powerful it left dents on the ground as it covered the distance between them in blinking strides and was almost immediately in front of Vacuse. He watched it come at him, his face gaining a look of concentration. Time seemed to slow as all his nerves came alive, his heart beating fast and his blood rushing. He took a deep breath and sucked all the force around him in; all the blue glow that surrounded him disappeared. His eyes shone, and he folded his left hand behind him. When his left hand was cut, he lost his balance and had to start training all over again. It wasn’t easy. He struck with his hand hundreds of thousands of times. He knew he was a weakling, and his only chance of survival was honing the few skills that he had. One of them was sword. He wasn’t talented in it, but he was talented in working hard. As the construct covered the distance between them, his body came alive, and his eyes blazed with all the force he was holding in. One chance, that’s all he has. Woosh! The arrival of the construct came with a blast of wind, and its sword came down with overwhelming power. Vacuse’s body twisted; his legs were his new balance, and he moved as if he was drunk, as if he was atop a stormy ship. He didn’t dodge the sword just like it. He avoided it by inches. It was a technique that was developed solely by him. It requires precise coordination, balance that couldn’t be achieved easily, and sharp eyesight. The difference in avoiding was so small that it fooled opponents into thinking they’ve already killed him. That’s when he would strike. His sword blazed; blue rippling energy erupted from his weapon, a shimmer that covered his whole weapon. He attacked, his sword moving like quicksilver. Not at the construct’s head or body, but directly at the hand that held the sword. Ping! All the force in his sword struck the hand so hard that the construct’s sword flew out of its hand, and the hand was twisted to the side. Vacuse then turned and ran. With the little energy he had left, he shot himself forward, his small frame rushing to the tree. He had thought about it; there was no way for him to beat the construct. So the only option was to get to the tree. The construct saw that and shot after him; its speed seemed to have increased. It leaped, hands outstretched, and was about to touch Vacuse’s neck when he suddenly fell forward in a roll, his sword discarded. The hand missed him by inches, but now the construct was looming over him. Vacuse grinned at it. "I’m already at the tree." His left hand was stretched forward, touching the bits of roots that jutted out of the ground. Immediately, the construct saw that it turned away from him, went to pick up its sword, and disappeared between the roots. Vacuse flopped down and breathed hard, excitement flowing through him. "How will it be like when I become a Soulbearer?" In his small way, Vacuse had tasted power. And he wanted more. He lifted himself to pick up his sword and turned to the tree. "All that running around is making me hungry." By that time, the sun was already setting, and the forest was getting dark.

Chapter 13: Construct

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