Rebirth Of The Bastard Spirit Summoner

"So you're some sort of summoner, right?" Caylus unsheathed his colossal blade, the sword making a metallic shrill as it left its sheath.

"No matter. Let's try that again…"

Stark laughed and jumped from one foot to the other to free his body. His first bout had been nothing more than a warmup and now? He would use every single thing in his arsenal.

His bag of tricks, his spirits, and the amalgamation of experience he had gotten throughout the fight.

But first…

He took out another pill, this time green, and placed it into his mouth.

"Shall we?"

Boom!

Both men clashed, both swords meeting in a resounding clang that sent an invisible shockwave bubbling forward.

Stark felt his bones shake, the impact sending a vibration throughout his entire body. His feet dug into the floor for traction and he gritted his teeth.

The knight pulled back and lunged again, sending a deadly slash right at his head. Stark jumped back, only for his eyes to widen.

The attack was not meant for his head, it was a feint. His real attack was…

His legs!

Clang!

Shifu rose from the dirt, meeting the strike with a heavy swing on his axe, yet even with all his strength, he was blown away from the impact.

But that was all the time Stark needed. Immediately his feet touched the floor, he hurtled forward, meeting Darell with a volley of strikes.

The two of them clashed, both fighters moving with impeccable stances and skill.

Stark saw himself adapting to the knight's perfect form. His footwork was improving, shifting at just the right times to revive blows, and he was shifting his body weight to deliver even more explosive power.

Clang!

Caylus parried Stark's strike, sending an elbow into his ribs, but before he could capitalize on it, the dire wolf appeared just for a brief second.

It sunk its fangs into his arm, the fangs deepening into his flesh. Darell tried to crush the spirit, but it simply vanished before he could lay a finger on it.

And in that moment of distraction, Stark had closed the distance.

He swung his blade, the crystal sword screeching against steel as it slipped into the gap of his armour, causing Caylus to wince and stumble back.

But his back was not safe, it never was.

Boom!

This time he managed to block Shifu's strike and spun on time to stop Stark, but that was his mistake.

He still treated the fight as though he was only facing Stark. But he was very wrong. From the beginning, this had always been—

'A four versus one!'

The second spirit slammed its axe into Caylus' knee, causing him to groan in pain, and Stark capitalized on it, using his pommel like a mace to punch through the chest of his steel armour.

It wasn't enough to do any substantial damage, save for dazing him, but it was a start. The hole would only get deeper and even mutually create a doorway to his heart.

Stark stepped in front of Darell and rammed his shoulder into his chest. Normally that would not have been enough to stop him, but the dire wolf was behind him, its back bent to trip the man.

Caylus gritted his teeth, his eyes widening just as Stark pounded his fist into his face, pushing him to the dirt.

Stark was upon him like a savage beast, pounding the pommel of his sword into his armour and face.

Blood flowed down his face like a stream, clouding his vision in red, yet the masked man kept pounding him, each strike desperate.

He knew that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and he didn't plan to waste it.

When Caylus tried to open his eyes, the man even took a handful of dirt and shoved it in his face, a lowlife through and through.

But he was not acting alone. His pack of savage beasts were tearing into him from all sides.

The wolf had its teeth inching into his armour while the little goatmen were taking apart his armour piece by piece.

Although he had not taken better gear today, Caylus was more than astounded.

Was he, a crusader, really being pushed back by some mere masked bandit?

His anger burned deep within his chest, and he opened his mouth to scream.

"Enough!"

BOOOM!

A violent surge of wind exploded out of his body, the raging winds howling like an infernal fiend as it cut past Stark.

He lifted his sword to block, but the winds whistled past it. Unlike before, these winds were as sharp as razors. They cut into his face, arms, and legs, ripping his clothes and drawing blood.

But that was not the worst part.

Stark had managed to send back most of the spirits into his soul, all save for one… the dire wolf.

Caylus had the beast held by the scruff of its neck, his hand glowing red with mana. No matter how much Stark tried to summon the spirit back, but nothing happened.

The knight staggered back slightly. Blood had covered his face and his armour—or what was left of it. It was in shambles.

With another burst of wind, he sent the scraps flying in his direction. Stark deflected it with a side swipe and then his eyes narrowed.

The man seethed. "Spirits, huh? There are many ways to deal with them."

He lifted his sword and cleaved the wolf in two, causing the beast to whimper as he tossed its fading body to the side.

Then he glanced at Stark, the blood on his face making him look like a wounded fiend.

"Come!"

The wind behind Stark suddenly coalesced, blasting into his back and sending him flying right at Caylus.

"What the hell?!"

Strong winds began to form around Caylus' blade as Stark soared through the air, the distance between them shortening at a speed too fast for comfort.

"You fought well, kid. Let the wind sing a ballad for the departed."

The wind began to glow a bright green light, the currents so strong that dust began to blow furiously behind him, sending his hair in a spiral.

"Howl of a Thousand Demons!"

[A/N]

Sorry if the pov switch I did there was a little confusing.