Chapter 28: Power of friendship? How pathetic!

Creating an ice dome, he trapped Hegan and Reed inside it while they were still struggling to get up off of their backsides after being knocked down earlier during their fight. They both looked at him wide-eyed and terrified with their mouths agape; their faces pale and sweaty with fear. Their bodies trembled violently under their clothes due to their uncertainty about who would be the next victim.

"Don't worry, this time, I'll save the worst for last," Tristan grinned wickedly in response to the looks on the two young men's faces. He then turned his attention once more toward Shanks in front of him.

Tristan's eyes gleamed with a mix of sadistic pleasure and cold determination as he approached the fallen Shanks. The man's blades lay scattered on the ice, his body pinned beneath the weight of Tristan's icy assault. Shanks struggled to free himself, his movements feeble and desperate.

Tristan crouched down beside Shanks, his voice dripping with malice. "You know, Shanks, I've always found your spineless arrogance and disdain for others quite distasteful." He drew his hand back, and sharp, translucent ice claws formed at the tips of his fingers. "I don't think you've learned your lesson yet. Maybe a bit more pain will help it sink in."

The frosty weapons glimmered menacingly in the pale light as he slowly ran the icy tips along Shanks' exposed skin. The man's eyes widened in terror, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Please... spare me," Shanks pleaded, his voice trembling with fear. "I won't challenge you again. I swear!"

Tristan tilted his head, mockingly considering Shanks' words. "You see, Shanks, I've grown tired of your presence. Challenging me without a plan was your mistake. And it's time to put an end to that."

With lightning speed, Tristan struck, slashing through the air and carving deep gashes in Shanks' flesh. Shanks screamed in agony as the icy claws tore through his shoulder, leaving a trail of frozen blood in their wake. The sound of his cries echoed through the clearing, mingling with the crackling of ice and the shocked gasps of Hegan and Reed.

The once confident and haughty man now writhed in pain, his strength ebbing away with each passing moment.

Tristan continued his assault, his movements were swift and precise with little cuts made on Shanks' body so he could hear him scream out loud before his death. He reveled in the power coursing through his veins, fueled by his newfound freedom from the marks that had bound him. Each strike he delivered to Shanks was fueled by his pent-up anger and frustration, unleashed in a flurry of icy devastation.

As the onslaught continued, Shanks' pleas for mercy turned into hoarse, desperate sobs. Blood stained the ice beneath him, the red contrasting starkly against the frozen surface. Tristan's eyes remained cold and unyielding, his assault relentless.

As Tristan inflicted more wounds upon Shanks, his sadistic satisfaction grew. He watched as the light in Shanks' eyes dimmed, replaced by a hollow emptiness. The man who had dared to challenge him now lay broken and defeated, a mere shell of his former self.

But Tristan wasn't finished. He wanted to savor every moment, relishing in the despair he had wrought. He leaned in close to Shanks, his voice dripping with venom. "In the end, you look just like the others."

With one final strike, Tristan plunged his icy claws into Shanks' heart, ending his life in a cold, brutal manner. He withdrew his hand, watching as the light faded from Shanks' eyes, leaving behind a lifeless body on the icy ground.

He finally withdrew his claws, the ice dissipating into mist. The silence that followed was suffocating, broken only by Tristan's heavy breathing, his expression devoid of remorse. The once vibrant and lively clearing was now a chilling scene of death and destruction. Hegan and Reed, who had been witnesses to the merciless slaughter, stared at Tristan with a mixture of fear and disbelief. They had seen firsthand the extent of his power, and the realization of their vulnerability settled heavily upon them.

'One down,' thought Tristan smugly, before turning his attention back toward Shanks.

Tristan crouched beside Shanks again, this time drawing one of Shanks' swords. With a single swipe, he cut through Shanks' neck, severing his head from his shoulders and sending blood spurting out onto the ice below.

Tristan froze the decapitated head and adjusted the head so it was merely a few meters away from the dome, while staring directly at Reed with a grin, knowing he would get the reference.

Reed backed away slowly, only held in place when he bumped up against the ice dome still surrounding them.

Tristan had his attention on Hegan and Reed, a twisted smile playing on his lips. "Now, my dear friends, it seems we have a little problem, don't we?" His voice was laced with a calculated cunning that sent shivers down their spines.

Swinging his right leg forward, Tristan kicked hard into the side of the frozen head of Shanks, causing it to fly towards the dome where they were trapped inside. It slammed into the dome of ice just inches from Reed's direction, smashing into a thousand pieces and showering the area in a shower of frozen chunks.

"What the fuck!" Reed shouted as he watched the ice fragments litter around the dome as if someone had thrown a handful of snow.

Hegan looked at Reed wide-eyed as he tried desperately not to laugh at how ridiculous all this seemed, but then his eyes widened even more at what happened next, they suddenly found themselves standing outside their icy prison! The thin but sturdy wall of ice was nowhere to be seen, having vanished completely without warning or explanation, leaving behind only a small pile of icy rubble scattered about their feet.

Hegan and Reed exchanged glances, their previous camaraderie shattered by the brutal display of violence they had just witnessed. Fear and distrust crept into their eyes as they realized they were now at the mercy of a man who had shown no hesitation in taking lives.

Tristan took a step closer, his voice filled with icy resolve. "You see, the bond of friendship can be a powerful weapon. It can be used to manipulate and deceive, to turn allies into enemies." He circled them slowly, his gaze never leaving their trembling forms. "And now, my dear friends, I'd like to see the power of friendship put to good use... for your benefit," he said coldly, beckoning them forward with an outstretched hand.

*****

A/N

¶ What's your thoughts on 'power of friendship' trope?

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