Tuesday, April 16, 2013

100 Words a Day 242

A void opened up in the middle of the field. The two men strode towards each other, one holding a sword before him, the other with empty hands.

The sword-bearer raised his blade above his head and shouted, “I stand on the shoulders of the warriors who came before me. My technique has been refined by thousands of warriors through generations uncounted. I am unstoppable!”

The man with no weapon replied: “I stand not upon shoulders, but piles of corpses, each composed of friends and enemies unnumbered. My technique too was refined over generations uncounted, but only by the survivors.

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